


The Champion

by JessieBwriting



Series: Melissa (Mel) Trevelyan [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action/Adventure, Character Death, Dysfunctional Family, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Bad At Titles, I'm Going to Hell, Kidnapping, Kinda, M/M, Violence, i'm a bad person, seriously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-25 01:09:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4940902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessieBwriting/pseuds/JessieBwriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While doing what she can to help her brother, Mel finds herself in the middle of a series of events that will shake the foundation of Thedas.  And crush her heart.</p><p>I do not own the world of Dragon Age.  Though that would be cool.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting Hawke

            Mel peered down from the rocks, watching the fight below. She and Fen had been keeping a close eye on the group of mercenaries since they had appeared on the coast just before dawn, waiting to see if they would need to deal with them.  But then this other group had appeared and it no longer looked like it would be necessary.  Mel found it interesting how this group of five was made up of three humans, two of which were mages, a dwarf, and an elf that seemed to be glowing. _Interesting and weird_ , she thought. She looked at the crouching great cat beside her.  “Guess we don’t have to worry about them,” she said. The red lion huffed in agreement, a hint of irritation showing.  Mel backed away from the ledge and stood up straight, stretching to loosen her muscles.  She picked up her bow and tugged on her hood to keep it in place.  “Well, should we go look for more trouble or just do some simple hunting?”  Fen got up and followed her as she began to walk away, keeping out of sight of the path but nearby as had become her practice. “Lirene did say that she needed more animal skins and meat for the refugees.”  She stopped when Fen began to growl and stalk toward the ledge again.  She hurried over and peered down.  Below, lying in wait, was a large group of Tal-Vashoth.  “Shit. Ambush.”

***

            Fenris gritted his teeth as the mage once again complained about Templars and the Circle.  He was really getting sick of his whining.  Bad enough that he was a mage.  He knew it was only a matter of time before he hit the mage, Hawke’s friend or not.  He glanced at Bethany.  While she was a mage as well, he didn’t feel as threatened or annoyed by her as Anders.  Of course, she didn’t talk constantly nor house a demon inside her.  But she was still a mage and he would continue to keep a wary eye on her.  She must’ve felt his gaze because she turned and he quickly looked away.  He saw movement up ahead and drew his blade, his markings glowing again.  “Hawke”, he warned.

            Marian Hawke looked up from talking with Varric and saw that their path was blocked by a small group of Qunari.  She drew her daggers but hesitated when Varric gave a warning shout.  She turned and saw the way behind them also blocked off by more Qunari.  They were outnumbered and trapped.  She turned back around and focused on the one she assumed was the leader.  “We don’t wish to fight,” she said.

            “Then you’ll drop your weapons,” the leader replied, his voice a low growl.

            Bethany gripped her staff tightly.  “Maybe we should just give them what they want.”

            Varric shook his head and aimed Bianca at one of the Qunari.  “I don’t think it’s just our coin they’re after Sunshine.”

            Fenris saw the blood lust in their eyes and knew them as Tal-Vashoth.  “No. It’s not.”

            Suddenly, a great roar filled the air followed by two cries of alarm.  Everyone watched in shock as two Tal-Vashoth dropped dead, their throats ripped out.  Fenris watched in surprise as a great beast took down a third.  He ignored the fear that crawled beneath his skin as he heard the leader give the order to attack.  They will deal with both threats.  As he charged one of the Tal-Vashoth, he registered that a hooded figure joined the fight, firing arrows with lightning fast reflexes.

            Mel took out a few Tal-Vashoth but she mostly kept an eye on Fen, making sure that the people they were rescuing didn’t try to attack him.  Eventually, the ex-Qunari recognized that they weren’t going to win and retreated, vanishing over the rocks.  Fenris saw that the beast remained and prepared to attack.

            “Freeze!” Mel shouted.  “Or I will drop you!”  Fenris did as she ordered, keeping his blade up and his eyes on her as she positioned herself between him and the great cat.  He raised a brow at seeing that she kept her aim on him and her back to the beast.  Her face was hidden behind a dark red mask and shadowed beneath a similarly colored hood, features such as hair kept unseen.  She wore leathers that were dyed black and he noted the daggers on her belt and would’ve betted the dwarf that she had more hidden in her boots.  He tried to read her bright blue eyes for her intent and was startled when Varric started to laugh.

            “Andraste’s tits! You’re the Red Hood!” he said, grinning at her as he strapped Bianca to his back.  Mel glanced at him, offered a small smile of her own before focusing back on the strange elf.

            Surprise then recognition appeared in Hawke’s eyes.  She had heard about the Red Hood, who in Kirkwall hasn’t, but had yet to run into her. During her year of smuggling, her and her sister mostly worked near the docks and the Red Hood was only ever seen outside of the city.  She couldn’t believe the stories about the vigilante having a red lion were true.  “I’m meeting all sorts of interesting people this week,” she said. She noted that her sister was staring thoughtfully at the red lion.

            Mel also gave her a smile before asking Fenris, “Any chance you’re going to lower your blade?”

            He tilted his head. “Perhaps. If you lower your bow.”  Mel glared at Fen when she heard the cat give an amused huff.  She slowly lowered her bow and Fenris did the same with his sword.

            He nodded at the red lion. “Impressive beast you keep.”

He was surprised by the flash of rage in her eyes and the snap of anger in her voice as she snarled, “I do not ‘keep’ him. That implies ownership. He is my _friend_.”  Fenris couldn’t help but feel admiration towards her for the unexpected response.

Varric took a step forward, recognizing that the elf walked dangerous ground with this one. “Pretty impressive friend.” He struggled against the instinct to run when the predator’s golden eyes turned to him.  Maker that is one scary cat.

“What is his name?” Bethany asked softly.

“Fenthorn,” Mel answered, unconcerned with sharing this information. Few knew to connect Fen to her and those that did were back in Ferelden and she trusted them with her life.

Hawke gestured to the corpses. “Thank you for the assist. I wasn’t expecting to run into a horde of Qunari.”

“Horde may be exaggerating it,” muttered Anders.  Hawke stuck her tongue out at him and he rolled his eyes, but Mel caught the small smile he tried to hide. _Well, isn’t that adorable._

“Tal-Vashoth,” she corrected.  “Normally, they stick to the main road leading into the city, ambushing merchant wagons. They must’ve followed you out here.”  She looked them over, noting their cheap armor and tattered clothing.  “Though why is beyond me.  You don’t look like you have much coin.”

Hawke looked down at herself and grimaced at seeing a new tear in the leather.  Her mother was going to kill her.  “We’re saving up.”

Mel laughed but stopped when the wind changed and Fen started to growl at one of the mages.  “You’re a Grey Warden,” she stated.

Anders startled and gripped his staff tightly.  He felt Justice stir but pushed the spirit back, struggling for control. “How could you possibly know that?” he asked, suspicious.

Mel nodded at Fen. “He doesn’t like how you smell.”

Fenris smirked. “None of us do.” Mel laughed and a strange foreign feeling rose up in him. He didn’t trust it and he glared at her. She was surprised by the sudden change and returned his glare. What was his problem?

Anders crossed his arms and grumbled, “Bathes aren’t exactly a luxury in Darktown.” Mel realized that this was the mage that ran the clinic there. Lirene had asked her collect herbs for him in the past.

Hawke winked at him, “You’re welcomed to use mine.” Anders blushed.

“Marian,” Bethany sighed. “I’m pretty sure Mother would object to that.”

“Spoil sport.”  Hawke turned back to Mel, who was enjoying the banter. “Is there a problem with him being a Warden?” she asked, readying herself in case she needed to protect her friend.

Mel saw that she had made her wary and waved her hand while shaking her head, smiling.  “Oh no. I just found it interesting that a Ferelden Grey Warden was helping deal with a random group of mercenaries.”

“Former Grey Warden,” Anders corrected. He nervously stared at the still growling red lion. “Can you tell him to stop that?”

Varric chuckled, “I thought you liked cats, Blondie?”

“House cats.”  Fenris rolled his eyes and watched as the vigilante nudged the red lion and gave him a look.  Fen stopped growling, narrowed his eyes at the mage and walked a ways a bit before looking back at her.

Mel understood what he wanted. It was time to go. She turned back to everyone.  “Those Tal-Vashoth should be long gone now and I have a feeling they won’t be back for… a few days at least. So you should have a relatively safe journey back to the city.”

Hawke looked back the way they came and forward toward the mount. “Would that be the same if we went the opposite direction, say to the base of Sundermount?”

Mel’s brow furrowed, thinking about the Dalish residing there. “Why do you need to go there?”

Fenris frowned at the suspicion in her voice. “None of your concern.”

Hawke sighed. “No need to be rude Fenris.” 

The elf glared at her. “You shouldn’t be so trusting, Hawke.”

“How can you say that? I don’t even trust my uncle!” Varric snorted.

Mel rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m just asking because there’s a Dalish clan there and they don’t like strangers.”  She looked directly at Fenris.  “Though they may like you.”

“Because I’m an elf,” he growled.

“No, because you’re highly distrustful and judgmental,” she replied, sweetly, laughter in her eyes.

Anders smiled, “I like her.”  Hawke chuckled but stopped when Fenris turned to glare at them all.

“Actually, it is the Dalish we have business with,” she told the Red Hood.

 _Strange, the Keeper never said anything._  “Do they know you’re coming?” she asked.

Hawke cringed. “Probably not.”

Fen walked back over and stared expectantly up at Mel. She shook her head but he only continued to stare. Fenris found the exchange intriguing. Eventually, Mel sighed.

“We’ll go with you then.”

Hawke tilted her head, questioning, “Why?”

Mel placed a hand on Fen head and scratched behind an ear. A rumble of pleasure sounded from the cat as she answered the woman, “They’ll be less likely to shoot at you if they see us.”

Fenris crossed his arms. “I thought you said they don’t like strangers.”

Mel smiled. “We’re not strangers.”

Hawke contemplated her offer and glanced at her companions, most of whom nodded in agreement. She smiled at the Red Hood, “I do like avoiding conflict.”

Mel spoke softly to Fen who turned and ran off, quickly disappearing down the path.  “He’ll make sure they know I’m coming,” she explained.

Hawke waved her hand, “Lead the way.”


	2. Hawke and Mel Go Up the Mount (to fetch a witch of the wilds)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter went through a shredder a couple of times and this is what remains of it. Basically, I'm still feeling out characters at this point and thus highly dislike almost everything I write. :) Except Mel and Fen. I love them.

            Mel led the way through the ruins scattered about the base of Sundermount, keeping a wary eye out (although Fen did a remarkable job of clearing the way) while listening with amusement to Varric as he continued to share tales of Hawke.  She found it a bit amazing how many he had although he hasn’t known the female rogue long.  She also found it amusing how he kept trying to collect information on her and her past by casually slipping in a question here and there.

            She glanced at the elf warrior.  Among the stories the dwarf shared about Marian, she also learned about the others including him.  Fenris.  A former slave of Tevinter.  Her eyes traced the markings on his skin, unable to believe that they were actually lyrium infused into him by his former master.  She had flinched when Varric had shared this and had earned herself a glare from said elf.  As she continued to stare, she found herself appreciating how the markings, strange as they were, sat on his skin.  How the pale lines ran down his tan, strong arms… and there he was glaring at her with those green eyes again.  She narrowed hers in return and focused back on leading them toward the Dalish camp.  Sure he was good looking, but too much of a stick in the mud for her taste.

            Fenris glared at the masked woman.  He didn’t trust her.  She may have helped them with the Tal- Vashoth and now led them to the Dalish, but she continued to wear the mask and hood, using that clever tongue of hers to dance around the dwarf’s questions.  He was impressed with her strength and fighting ability, not to mention her bond with the red lion.  And her sky blue eyes seemed shined brightly beneath that mask… He looked away.  He needed to remember the mask.  She kept herself hidden for a reason and he couldn’t let his guard down around her.  No matter how… appealing she was.

            They soon approached the entrance to the camp and Mel saw two hunters waiting for them, a male and female.  Fen waited with them, sitting to the left of the female.  Mel could see that he appeared irritated which wasn’t surprising considering who the male elf was.  Upon reaching them, the female elf smiled and said in greeting, “Savhalla Veni’vheraan.”

            Mel smiled in return and replied, “Savh Valyne.”  She dropped the smile as she faced the male elf.  “Savh Althon.”

            “Why have you brought more shems here?” he spat, earning himself a growl from the red lion.  He glanced at the great cat warily then glared at Marian.  “Your kind are not welcome among the Dalish.”

            Marian tilted her head, confused.  “Shems?”  She had heard the term before from elves in the city but never had the courage to ask them what it meant.  After all, they usually said it with a level of dislike.

            “The elven word for human,” Fenris answered.  He glared at the elf their guide had called Althon.  He didn’t like how he had spoken to the vigilante and could felt the familiar vibration as his markings began to glow.  Everyone glanced at him with caution.

            Althon gripped his sword tightly, hoping for a reason to use it.  “It means you are not one of the People.  And should leave.”

            “Wait,” said Anders.  He pointed at Mel.  “But you’re human?”

            Mel opened her mouth to give a sarcastic remark, but was interrupted by Althon.  “The Keeper permits her presence.”

            Mel crossed her arms.  “Much to his annoyance.”  Rage flared in Althon’s eyes.

            Marian held up her hands.  “Look, I’m not expecting tea or cakes.  I just need to see someone.”

            “There is nothing here for _any_ shem,” Althon said, glaring at Mel as he spoke.  She stuck her tongue out at him and he spat a curse at her.  Fen stood up and his growl grew.

            “Melenas!” Valyne said loudly.  She narrowed her eyes at them both then scolded Althon in Elven.  She turned to Mel, who held up a hand and gave an apologetic smile.  She may only know a few words in Elven but she got the gist of what Valyne had said.  The female elf smiled and turned to face Marian, though she spoke to Althon, “This may very well be who Keeper Marethari has been waiting for.”

            _How come I wasn’t told that Keeper Marethari was waiting for_ anyone _?_ Mel thought.

            Surprise filled Althon’s eyes.  “A shemlen?  I thought you’d be an elf.”

            Mel rolled her eyes.  “Of course you did.”  Fen bumped her and she nudged him back.

            Valyne gestured into the camp.  “You may enter the camp, alin.  Veni’vheraan can show you the way.”  Marian smiled, nodded thanks, and Mel moved to lead them through the camp.

            “Etunas ish’ala!” Althon snapped.  He grinned when Mel froze and shot him a glare.  Perhaps today she’ll give him a reason.  His grin dropped and he took a step back when the red lion _and_ the shems’ elf took one forward.

            Mel groaned, “Oh come on.  Just this once.”

            Valyne smiled while keeping a wary eye on Althon.  “You know the rules.”

            Mel glanced at the others, who were clearly and rightly confused.  “Yeah but -”

            “You don’t trust them yet you bring them into our camp?” Althon grew even more vicious and Fen’s growl grew even louder.

            She sighed.  “Fine.”  She reached up and took off her mask and pushed back her hood.  Shoulder length brown hair fell forward, now free of the hood’s confinement.  She shook her head and ran a hand through her hair.  She looked up and slowly dropped her hand when she saw Fenris staring at her as if he were in shock.  She couldn’t tear her gaze away.  The look in his eyes… no one’s just stared at her like that before.  Or if they have, they never made her feel like… she couldn’t quite label it.

            “Wait a minute.”  Varric’s voice broke her focus and she was able to look away from the elf.  “Haven’t I seen you in Lowtown before?”

            Mel narrowed her eyes at him and let out a frustrated breath.  Great, now she would have to avoid these people while in Kirkwall.  She should’ve just let them find their own way here.  “Just follow me,” she snapped, stuffing her mask into her pouch, and led them through the camp. 

She saw the Keeper standing by the fire in the middle of camp but when she looked around for her First, Merrill, she couldn’t find her.  Mel frowned.  When she first met the clan, she had noticed a tension between Merrill and the others, but it seemed to have gotten worse over the last few months.  But no one would talk to her about it, not even the quirky little mage she had come to call friend.  She understood and accepted that the Dalish would never tell her all their secrets but she was worried for her friend.  Something was wrong.

            “En’an’sal’en Keeper Marethari,” she greeted the elder elf.

            The mage looked up from the flames and smiled at seeing Mel.  “Tuelanen i’na Veni’vheraan,” she replied.  She turned her smile to the great beast that stood protectively at the human’s side.  “On’alamelan.”  Fen nodded his head in greeting.

            Marian stepped forward.  “Marethari?” she asked, and the Keeper turned to her.  “I was told to bring this to you.”  She reached into her pouch and drew out an amulet.  Mel watched curiously as the Keeper took a moment to examine it.

            “Andaran atish’an, travelers,” the Keeper finally said.  “I am indeed Keeper Marethari.  Let me look at you, child.”  Marian glanced at Mel as the Keeper looked her over carefully.  Mel hoped her smile was encouraging.  “There is truth in your face.  A rare thing for a human.”

            “Hey!” Mel objected.

            The Keeper smiled.  “I said rare, not nonexistent.  Tell me, how did this burden fall to you child?”  Mel moved to sit on one of the logs by the fire and Fen placed himself at her feet.  She listened as Marian shared the story about the witch that had helped them escape the Blight but became distracted as she remembered Morrigan and wondered how that particular witch was doing.  She wondered how they were all doing.  She smiled to herself, thinking about Alistair being King and how no doubt Rox had her hands full helping him.

            She snapped back out of her thoughts when she heard the Keeper say her name.  “Sorry, what?”  She thought she saw a smirk form on Fenris’s face but when she looked his expression was as serious as ever.  She stuck her tongue out at him all the same. 

She stood up as the Keeper repeated her request.  “You and On’alamelan will go with them?”  When she saw the confusion on Mel’s face she gave a disappointing sigh before repeating what she had told Marian about going to the top of Sundermount to perform the rite.  “Merrill will go with you but there are many dangers the closure you approach the sacred ground and she could benefit from your aid.”

Mel was tempted to say no, she would rather not.  She had already revealed her face to these people, she couldn’t afford to reveal more.  But then she glanced at Fenris and saw him glaring at the male mage, Anders, who was warming his hands with a magical ball of flame.  She saw the distrust and anger in his eyes and thought of Merrill.  Thinking harder, she whipped her gaze back to the elder elf as she realized the true meaning in her words.  The Keeper wanted her to protect _Merrill_.  From these people?  Why?  Both with a desire to protect her friend and curiosity as to why that would be necessary, Mel agreed to accompany them to the summit.

***

            Mel stared at her friend in shock as she hesitantly turned back to the group.  Her gaze fell to the elf’s bleeding hand before she used magic to heal it.  She had used forbidden magic.  She had used –

            “Blood magic!” angrily yelled Anders.  “Are you crazy!” 

            “Shit Merrill,” Mel said and the elf flinched.  Fen gave a warning growl and Mel saw Fenris draw his large blade, his markings glowing.  Instinct overpowered hesitation and brought her between the two elves, her bow drawn and aimed at him.  She stared into his pale green eyes and thought she detected a trace of fear before rage overcame everything.

            Blood magic.  If there’s one thing you can count on when it came to mages it was that they will always fall to temptation.  First the abomination, now this.  Fenris drew his blade with every intention of cutting the elf mage down.  Hang the rite, he didn’t owe some witch from Ferelden anything.  He frozen as the vigilante stepped between him and the mage, her weapon once again aimed at _him_ and her back to the _blood mage_!  Fasta vass!  Was the woman insane?  “You stand with her?” he growled.  He was aware of the red lion growling to his right but he kept his eyes on her.

            Mel calmed herself, choosing to deal with the revelation later.  For now, she will protect her friend.  “Has she attacked you?” she asked, arching a brow.

            Fenris shook his head, confused by her actions.  “She used blood magic!”

            Mel noted the others standing by, waiting for an answer.  “Trust me,” she insisted.  “I don’t like this any more than you do but I’m not about to let you strike down my friend.”  She moved to the side a bit and shot a glare at Merrill.  “No matter how stupid her actions.”

            “I know what I’m doing,” Merrill stated irritably.  She look to Hawke and offered a small smile.  “The spirit helped us didn’t it?”

Marian didn’t return the smile and instead crossed her arms while angrily saying, “Call it what it is.  You summoned a _demon_.  And for Maker’s sake Fenris, lower your sword!”  Fenris looked at her in surprise, but when she only gestured for him to put it away, he did as she said.  Mel smirked at him as she too lower her weapon and he fought the urge to wipe it from her face.  Venhedis!  The woman was maddening.

            Merrill shook her head and tried to explain.  “Demons are just spirits.  Like Honor and Joy.”  Anders made a noise of disgust.  “It’s not their fault they are what they are.”

            Fenris snorted and said with sarcasm, “Ignore the lion.  Not its fault it’s going to eat you.  Sound advice.”  Mel chuckled when Fen nodded in agreement.  He would know.

            “Surely,” Bethany said softly, “there was a safer way to bring the barrier down.”

            Merrill liked her.  She wasn’t yelling or aiming a weapon.  “There wasn’t.”

            Mel gave her a knowing look.  “Did you look?”  Merrill shot her a glare and turned, walking onward.  Mel sighed.  _I hurt her feelings.  I’ll need to apologize later.  After I figure out how to do that without retracting my feelings on blood magic because that is bad bad bad stuff._   After the others walked by, she followed, finding herself walking between Fenris and Fen.  She warily glanced at the elf and realized he was giving her a similar look.

            “Dangerous friends you keep,” he said.

            Mel stopped and brought him to a halt by gripping his arm.  “You say I ‘keep’ anyone again,” she smiled and said as sweetly as she could, “and I’ll shove an arrow up your ass.”  She quickly walked away, missing the smile he gave her as she did.

***

            Mel watched as the dragon flew off.  Flemeth.  The dragon was Flemeth.  _The_ Witch of the Wilds.  Morrigan’s _mother_!  And Marian had been carrying her around in her freaking pocket!  She sat down on a large rock and ran a hand through her hair.  Maker, this was a lot to take in.

            “Hey kid, you okay?”  She looked up to see Varric looking at her with concern.

            She opened and closed her mouth without making a sound and waved a hand at the altar.  Finally, she managed, “I may be going insane.”

            He laughed, “If you are, you aren’t alone.”

            Mel looked at Marian.  “Do things like that happen to you all the time?”

            “Maker, I hope not,” she said.  “I’m not sure I can handle that much excitement on a daily basis.”

            “I second that,” said Bethany.

            Marian laughed, then said to Mel, “She indicated that you knew her daughter, Morrigan.”

            “Um, yeah.”  Mel did some quick thinking.  “I met her in Ferelden before I came here.”  That was safe.  That small bit of information didn’t reveal anything about who she was.

            Marian frowned at her.  That didn’t tell her anything!  She opened her mouth to ask more but her sister elbowed her and shook her head.  Marian sighed.  Fine. She’ll back off for now.  But her curiosity will need to be appeased at some point.  She looked at the elf mage.  “So, you’re coming with us?”

            Merrill starting talking nervously.  “Yes.  But only if you’re okay with it.  Or if you’re not I could just follow you into the city.  And maybe if you wouldn’t mind helping me find a place to stay.  Or not if that’s too much trouble.”

            Marian smiled.  She may be a blood mage, but she was adorable.  And she did seem to really want to help people.  “We’ll help you find a safe place to live.”  Fenris and Anders both made noises of disgust then glared at each other.

            They made their way back down the mount but Mel and Fen stopped walking just outside the Dalish camp.  Marian stopped too.  “Aren’t you coming?”  She raised a brow when she saw that the hood and the mask were back on.  And how upset this seemed to make Fenris.

            Mel smiled.  “Nope.  Got other things to do.  Bandits to beat up, slavers to kill.”  And she shouldn’t continue to hang out with these people.  It wasn’t safe.  For her or them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used Project Elvhen by FenxShiral for translating purposes, probably poorly in regards to creating Mel and Fen's titles among the Dalish. 
> 
> Veni'vheraan = Walks with Lion  
> On'alamelan = Great Protector


	3. Helping Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My god it's been a while. Super sorry everyone!

            Mel crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at the dark haired woman standing behind the counter.  Sometimes, she really found her irritating.  Like now.

            “Two sovereigns,” the merchant insisted.

            Mel sighed.  “Lirene, _I_ wouldn’t pay two sovereigns for these furs.”  This happened every time she brought the owner of Fereldan Imports new furs and meat.  The small shop was known for providing aid to the refugees that fled the Blight and Mel always made sure to sell her best meat and warmest furs here, even though she could get a higher price from any other merchant.  And while with any other merchant she would fight for a higher price, Mel knew that Lirene didn’t make much in her shop these days thanks to the prejudices aimed at Ferledans and she would still donate a good portion of what little she did make, so the hunter would fight for a lower price.  After all, she didn’t really need the money.  She hunted her own food and the Dalish had provided her with clothing as thanks for past deeds.  If she could get away with just handing over the furs and meat for free, she would, but she had dealt with the merchant long enough to know that Lirene would be insulted.  “They will keep the refugees clothed and warm, but they aren’t worth two sovereigns.  Fifty silver.”

            Lirene mirrored her stance.  “You think I don’t know that you not only dumped most of your earns from the market when you entered here, but that you’ll end up doing the same when you leave here?  One sovereign.  I won’t go less.”

            Mel glared at the woman for a moment before giving in.  “Fine. But I’ll take it in silver.”

            Lirene smiled with triumph and gratitude.  “Let me get the coin.”  She turned and disappeared into the small office in the back.  Mel rocked back on her heels, glancing at a young boy begging his mother to buy him a small sword that the woman couldn’t afford.

            “Impressive bartering, Hood.”  Mel froze and turned to see who spoke, finding a familiar dwarf grinning up at her.  “Though I don’t normally see the seller asking for the lower price.”

            Mel stared at him, first in shock and then in anger.  Varric had figured that he would see the two when he called her “Hood” but he hadn’t thought to see the fear that had initially been there when she turned.  It had quickly disappeared when she caught sight of him, but he was good at picking up on the details.  Before he could dwell on it too long though, the young woman grabbed his coat and dragged him to the adjoining room that was held more merchandise.

            “Kierra,” Mel spoke to the woman working in there.  “Tell Lirene that I’m in the storage room speaking with someone.”  Then she quickly shoved him into the room and shut the door before the woman could reply.

            Varric straighten his coat and warily eyed the glaring woman.  “Didn’t mean to freak you out there, Hood.”

            Mel hissed out a Dalish curse.  “Why do you keep calling me that and why are you here?”

            “I do live here in Lowtown you know.  Saw you come in here with all those furs and was curious.  And what else am I supposed to call you?  I only know you as the Red -”

            He was cut off when Mel dropped to the floor and slapped a hand over his mouth.  “Stop saying that name!”  She narrowed her eyes at him until he nodded and removed her hand, standing back up.  “Maker damnit Varric.  You can’t call me that when I’m in Kirkwall and not when I’m not wearing my mask.  It’s called a secret identity for a reason!”

            Varric hadn’t seen that fear again in her eyes but did hear the desperation hidden in her voice.  “Calm down kid.  I didn’t shout it out for all to hear.”  Her glare clearly stated that she didn’t care.  “I get why you’re pissed, but mind telling me why you’re terrified.”  Mel stared at him in surprise.

            The door opened and Lirene entered.  “Mel?  Kierra said you were back here with someone.”  She caught sight of the dwarf.  “Oh, hello Varric.  Is Hawke here today?”  Mel let out another curse, this time in the common tongue and earning both a glare and a look of confusion from the merchant.

            Varric shook his head.  “No, not today.  I saw my friend, _Mel_ , here and wanted to say hi.”  When Mel’s glared intensified, an idea sparked in his mind.  “Actually, we were just going to go get drinks at the Hanged Man.  Right _Mel_?”

            Mel continued to glare at him for a moment before looking away and mumbling, “Right.”

            Lirene stared at them both in confusion but decided not to question it.  She found that Hawke and her friends were all a little strange in some way.  She was happy to hear though that Mel did indeed have friends in Kirkwall.  She was beginning to worry about the poor girl.  “Well, before you go, here is you money.  And do not drop a single coin into that donation box on your way out.  You’ve done more than enough to help.”  Lirene’s name was called and she bid goodbye to the two before leaving to help a customer.

            “I’m not getting drinks with you,” Mel said.

            Varric grinned.  “Sure you are.  You don’t want to make me a liar do you?”  _And you need to relax kid._

            Mel smirked.  “Somehow, I highly doubt you need help with that.”

            “You wound me, Red.”

            “Are you trying to piss me off?”

            “You’re right, I didn’t care for that one either.  Come one.  One drink.  That’s all I’m asking.”

            Mel sighed.  He probably wouldn’t leave her be until she agreed.  “Fine.  But you’re buying.”  They made their way to the exit but Mel paused in the main room.  Varric figured she was going to drop some coin in the box despite the merchant’s words, but was surprised when she picked up a small sword and purchased it.  Varric watched, curious, as the blade was old and in desperate need of a sharpening stone.  Useless in a fight.  Surprised filled him when he watched her approach a young boy, no more than ten, and gently spoke to him before handing over the blade.  She then stood and faced the mother, pressing some of the coin she just received into the woman’s palm.  The mother’s eyes filled with tears of gratitude and a whispered thanks left her lips.  Mel smiled and nodded before turning back to Varric.  “Let’s go,” she said.  He remained silent until they reached the Hanged Man where he ordered drinks and said to bring them to his rooms.  Mel laughed when he led her to them.

            “You live in the tavern?”

            Varric chuckled.  “Easy access to the bar, yes?”  He settled in a chair and Mel looked over his books, noting that there were a few written by him.

            “Merrill told me you were a writer,” she said as she picked up a book.

            “You enjoy reading?”

            Mel placed it back on the shelf.  “When I can.”

            Varric stood up and took down the book again.  “Here then.  I’ve read it.”  His eyes gleamed in amusement and Mel couldn’t stop her smile as she took the tome.  They both sat as the drinks were delivered and they passed the time with small talk.  When Varric saw that she was relaxed and despite her efforts, enjoying herself, he asked, “So who are you hiding from?”

            Mel froze and her face went blank.  “What makes you think I am?”

            Varric sat back.  “The mask, the hood, the secret identity to name a few.”

            Mel snorted.  “I can’t very well have people know that Mel and the Red Hood are one and the same.  I would be arrested or dead within the week.”

            “You forget that I’ve seen you fight.  And you’ve got that furry friend of yours.  I think that people have more reason not to take you on then you have to fear them.”

            Mel stared into her drink.  “I can’t stop the Guard from arresting me here and I wouldn’t let Fen hurt them for doing their job.”

            “Why would they arrest you?  You take care of bandits and rogue Qunari on the Wounded Coast.  Hawke’s been doing the same thing and sometimes, the Guard’s even paid her for her assistance.  Not to mention she’s got a friend in the Guard.  Point is, you’re not worried about them.”

            Mel continued staring into her drink, thinking, and Varric waited her out.  Should she tell him?  Could she trust him?  He’s been kind and protective of Merrill, according to the elf, and he didn’t seem the type who would sell her out.  But it wouldn’t just be her life at stake if _they_ ever found her.  However, she couldn’t just say nothing.  He also didn’t seem the type to give up.

            “Everyone knows of the Red Hood, the vigilante.”  She looked at Varric.  “Very few, hardly any really, know of Mel, the lowly hunter.”

            “Unless you’re from Ferelden.”  Confusion settled in the hunter’s eyes.  “Took her a few days, but Bethany figured out where she had seen you and Fen before.  You’ve been helping refugees since Lothering.”

            Mel slowly nodded.  “Few are willing.”  She took a drink and whispered, “Who else have you told?”

            “Only Hawke’s family and I know and we won’t tell anyone.  Although, there isn’t much to tell.  You’ve been hiding for quite a while kid.”

            “I have my reasons,” she muttered.

            “Don’t we all.”  He stared at her for a moment.  “So you have the secret identity to keep Mel hidden.  Why?”  When she didn’t immediately answer, he said, “Look kid, you won’t be able to hide forever and you’ll need someone to have your back.”  When she opened her mouth, he waved a hand.   “And I don’t just mean your lion friend or the Dalish.  They can’t help you when you’re in the city and you know it.”

            “And you can?”  He nodded.  “Why would you?”

            He smiled.  “Damn if I know.  Probably for the same reason I first approached Hawke.”  When he didn’t explain further, Mel was tempted to ask for clarification.  But she had a feeling that he truly wasn’t sure.

            “Let’s just say that there is a rather powerful family in the Free Marches who can’t know that I’m here.  Not in Kirkwall,” she clarified, “But they probably still have some level of influence here.”

            Varric didn’t push for a name.  Baby steps, he thought.  “Seems it would’ve been safer to stay in Ferelden.”

            She paused before rolling her eyes.  “There was a Blight going on.”

            “Orlias would’ve been safer,” he countered.

            Her brow furrowed and she took her time answering.  “I received word that… a friend of mine was here and I came to help him.”

            _You and Hawke are so much alike.  Willing to help others no matter how much danger it puts you both in._   Varric decided that was enough for today.  She unloaded a lot of her burden and he hoped eventually she would come to unload it all on her own in time.  “Guess I do need to stop calling you Hood in public then.”

            She chuckled.  “That would be greatly appreciated.”

            “I’m still going to come up with a nickname for you though.  Just give me time.”  She stayed for another hour, talking and drinking with the dwarf.  When she left to go visit the Dalish elf, Varric made sure to have someone watch over her until she left for the Wounded Coast.


	4. Raising the Heat a Little

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a tad so don't get too excited just yet

            The Red Hood stood hidden in shadows as she watched a small group of the Kirkwall’s guardsmen pace before an entrance to an old and long abandoned dwarven passage.  She took note of the elven man that faced the entrance, his stiff body telling her he was barely containing his rage.  She had come across the guardsmen’s foot prints further up the Coast and had decided to investigate.  Normally, she would keep out of the Guard’s way and leave them to their rounds.  But she had recently heard of the corruption that Hawke and her Guard friend had weeded out and while the man in charge may no longer be in a position of official power, that didn’t mean that he and those loyal to him wouldn’t seek revenge in whatever way they sought.  And the trail had suggested to her that the guardsmen were chasing someone.

            When she reached the end of the trail and saw them waiting at the passage entrance with the elf, she had decided to keep back.  There didn’t appear to be any immediate danger, certainly nothing the soldiers couldn’t handle, and they probably wouldn’t appreciate the help of a vigilante.  Or at least the masked one.  She had a feeling they wouldn’t have an issue with Hawke if the rogue woman showed up, being close friends with the new Captain of the Guard and all.  She was just thinking about getting back to roaming the Coast when the elf began to argue with one of the guardsmen.  She edged closer in order to hear better.

            “I won’t tell you again elf,” said the guardsmen, irritation clear in his voice.  “Go home.”

            “I will not leave as long as that _monster_ ,” the elf snarled the word and pointed at the passage, “continues to breathe.”

            The guardsmen was quickly moving from irritated to pissed off.  The past few days had not been kind to him and he was getting sick of the disrespect he was receiving from others.  Dirty knife-ears or whores who thought they could be Captain.  When the elf refused to listen to him, he growled and thought enough was enough.  No one would notice another elf disappear and the men with him would keep quiet.  He drew his sword and stepped toward the elf.

            He froze when something flew passed him and struck his sword, the sound of metal striking metal ringing out.  “Hold it,” a female voice called out and he slowly turned to see a young woman step out of the shadows.  Mel slowly made her way toward the elf, keeping her bow trained on the guardsman.  “There’s no need for that.”

            The Guard archer with him let out a gasp.  “Urian, it’s the Red Hood,” the man exclaimed.

            “I can bloody well see that, Cox!” Urian snapped.  What the Void was _she_ doing here?  First Hawke and her shifty friends and now the vigilante!  He warily glanced around but couldn’t see the beast rumored to fight with her.  Perhaps that was just that, a rumor.  He pointed his sword at the hooded girl.  “You, leave.  This is the business of the City Guard.”

            Mel narrowed her eyes and took count.  She only counted three guardsmen, two warriors and an archer.  If it came to a fight, she could take out the one warrior fast as his helm was removed and the archer didn’t even have his bow in his hands, so he would be a fast drop too.  The second warrior could be tricky, but she was confident she could take him.  She would just have to be careful to not get hurt.  Fen didn’t like her scouting the Coast when he wasn’t there to help.

            Mel placed herself between the elf and the guardsman.  “Strange, it looked like you were drawing a weapon on a defenseless elf.  Guess the new Captain’s clean up isn’t finished after all.”

            Urian clenched his teeth.  The bitch!  “The elf is obstructing justice,” he snarled.

            “Justice!” the elf shouted.  He moved to the side, allowing Mel to see him without her taking her eyes off the guardsmen, although she mentally cursed him for it.  If the other warrior charged, she may not be able to stop him in time.  “There is a… shem in there who has slaughtered elven children!”  Pain twisted his expression.  “Including my daughter.  And _they_ ,” he spat at Urian, “plan to return him to his father.  How can you call that justice?”

            Mel glared at the guardsmen.  Un-fucking-believable.  “You can’t.”

            The other warrior stepped forward.  “What the elf is failing to say is that he wishes to kill the man once he is brought out of the ruins.”  He gestured toward the passage and Mel wondered how many guardsmen were in there.  Fen was going to sit on her for sure when he got back.  Maker damnit.  “To kill him in cold blood isn’t justice.  The man must stand trail.”

            Mel raised a brow at the irony of the man’s words as the elf scoffed.  “And he will walk free just like all the other times.”

            “Enough!” shouted Urian.  He glared at the other Guard warrior, Mason, indicating that he should be silent and turned back to the elf and the vigilante.  “This is a waste of time.  You are both interfering in Guardsmen business and if you do not leave _now_ I will be forced to bring you in.”  He focused on the Red Hood as he said this last part.  Mel knew that the distraught father wasn’t going anywhere and prepared herself for the coming fight.

            “Baba!”  The voice of a child broke through the tension and everyone turned to witness as a young female elf came running out of the passage.  The elf next to Mel let out sound of disbelief before he sprinted forward, pulling the child into his arms and collapsing to his knees.

            “Lia!”  The elf looked his daughter over, hardly believing that she was here.  “You’re alive.”  He gathered her tightly in his arms and his next words were muffled, “How it possible?”

            “He let me go, baba,” the child answered, her voice betraying how close to crying she was.  _What?_ Mel thought.  She heard movement behind her and whipped around, training her bow back on the guardsmen.

            Urian still had his sword drawn but he had lowered it to his side.  Maybe now that the knife-ear’s daughter was fine, he and the hooded bitch would leave.  Then he would just need to deal with Hawke.  “Look at that.  Your daughter is alive.  Now you can leave.”

            The elf stood up and glared at the shem while pointing at the passage.  “That man is still in there!” he shouted.  “He can’t be allowed to live!”

            Urian opened his mouth to argue but it was the child that beat him to it.  “No baba!”  Everyone looked at her in shock as she continued.  “Like I told that woman and her friends, he shouldn’t be killed!”

            To say Mel was confused would be understating it.  “The man kidnapped you and tried to kill you.  He’s done so with many other children.  Why would you want to spar him?”

            The girl turned to her and almost let out a gasp.  It was the Red Hood!  Just wait until she told Gemet.  “But he didn’t try to kill me!  He told me to run.”

            Mel lowered her bow and put a hand to her forehead.  “This is hurting my head.”

            “She’s in shock,” said the elf.  “She doesn’t know what she is saying.”

            “But I do know, baba!”

            Urian clenched his teeth and his hands.  “I told you all to leave!”

            Mel rolled her eyes and spoke without thinking, forgetting momentarily that the situation still had the potential to turn deadly.  “Hey, we’ll leave when we’re good and ready to.”  When Mel saw the rage fill the guardsman’s eyes, she realized her mistake.  “Ah shit.”

            Urian raised his sword and was about to give the order to arrest them when once again, another female voice interrupted him, this one more mature than the child’s.  “Oh look!  A party!”  Again, everyone looked at the passage and Mel didn’t know whether to curse or be relieved when she saw the familiar dark haired rogue emerging from within.  Behind her came Varric, who seemed to find the situation amusing, and Fenris, who didn’t seem to share the same thought.  Another woman emerged with them, her dark body barely covered by her rogue armor and a magnificent pair of daggers held in her hands.  All of them were wearing what Mel assumed was some unfortunate souls’ blood.  Hawke moved to Mel’s left side, smiling but her eyes were hard.  “I do hope I haven’t missed all the fun.”  Urian only continued to glare.

            Varric moved to stand to Mel’s right and winked at her.  “Hey Hood.  Making new friends?”  He watched her eyes roll behind her mask but they glittered with amusement.

            “So this is the Red Hood I’ve been hearing about?”  Mel turned to see the new woman looking her over before also winking at her, although there was clearly a different meaning behind it.  The vigilante looked to Fenris and was surprised to see the elf glaring at the other woman.  Of course, once he noticed she was staring at him, that glare was aimed at her and she answered with one of her own before focusing back on Hawke when the rogue spoke again.

            Hawke was speaking to the elf.  “Elren.  I see your daughter was able to find the exit okay.”

            The father gave her smile filled with gratitude.  “Thank you, Messere!”  Mel raised a brow at the term the elf chose to use, indicating just how high he held Hawke.  “You saved my daughter’s life!”  He took a step forward, keeping a hand on his daughter’s shoulder.  “What of that monster?  Is he dead?”  Movement caught Mel’s attention and when she looked, she saw Fenris step forward, intent on the father.  Mel tilted her head in curiosity.

            Hawke’s expression soften as she answered the elf.  “He will not bring harm to Lia or another child again.”  Mel gripped her bow tighter when she noticed the guardsmen tense.

            Elren’s eyes held doubt.  “Are you certain?”

            Fenris took another step forward.  “I killed him myself.”  Mel looked to his right hand when he started to raise it but then clenched it and lowered again.  She saw that it was covered in blood.  Her attention was drawn away when the elf child began to weep.

            Elren looked to his weeping daughter and gathered her close before turning back to Hawke.  “I- I never thought an elf could actually receive aid from anyone in Kirkwall.  To receive true justice.”  He glanced at Mel.  “It’s good to see that I was wrong in this.”  He took another step toward Hawke.  “I speak for all of us in the alienage when I say we are in your debt, Messere.”  Mel just couldn’t help herself and gave Hawke a mocking bow, earning herself a scowl from the woman and chuckles not only from Varric and the dark skinned woman but also from Fenris.  Elren continued, “It has been an honor to have met you, Hawke.”  He turned to Mel.  “And a privilege to have met the Red Hood.”  With those final words, Elren and his still crying daughter left, slowly making their way around the guardsmen and taking the safest path back to Kirkwall.  Mel couldn’t understand the child’s reaction to the death of the man that had kidnapped her but she still sent a quick silent pray to whomever may be listening that Lia and her father would be okay.  Then she turned to Hawke.

            “How come it’s an honor to meet you but only a _privilege_ to meet me?”

            Hawke smirked at the masked woman.  “I’m prettier.”

            Urian had long since sheathed his sword, waiting impatiently for the elf and Captain’s friend to finish their exchange.  After all, he needed to confirm the woman’s claim.  “You killed the Magistrate’s son?” he demanded to know.  Mel’s eyes widened at this piece of news.  The _Magistrate’s_ son!  Shit, why did she have to stumble into this mess?

            Hawke sighed but confirmed, “I killed a murderer.  A man who has killed before and would’ve again.  Or rather, _he_ did with my okay.”  She pointed over her shoulder at Fenris.  Mel looked at him but he kept his eyes on the guardsman.

            “You went against his orders?” Urian asked in disbelief.  He never actually thought this woman would be stupid enough to go against the Magistrate.  “Do you not understand just how much influence he has in Kirkwall?”

            Mel glared at him.  “Just because someone is powerful doesn’t mean they shouldn’t face the consequences of their actions like everyone else,” she spat, with heated venom in her voice.   This drew many curious glances and a stare from a certain white haired elf.

            Hawke placed a calming hand on the bow-woman’s shoulder, although she had to struggle to keep her own anger under control.  She would rather avoid a fight than go looking for one, contrary to popular belief.  “I agree.  Besides, he didn’t exactly give us much of a choice.”

            “And what will your friend the Captain say?” Urian sneered.

            Hawke narrowed her eyes.  “She will understand.  I’m curious what she would say about some of her guardsmen choosing to take the man to his father rather than to Kirkwall’s prison to await trail there.”  Hatred flashed in Urian’s eyes at the implied threat.

            The other warrior Guard spoke up.  “I feel just as bad for those knife-ears as the next man, but to go against direct orders -”

            Hawke couldn’t stop some of her anger from lashing out at his words.  “You can’t claim to care and use that phrase in the same sentence.  And correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t direct orders only meant to come from your superiors in the Guard or the Viscount himself?”

            “No matter where our orders came from, _you_ were here to complete a job given to you by the Magistrate,” Urian countered.

            “Without all of the facts,” Varric pointed out.

            “Do you think he will care?”

            Hawke shrugged.  “So I won’t get paid.  At least _I_ won’t have innocent blood on my hands.”

            Urian clenched his fists.  The bitch might not care that she wasn’t getting paid, but neither would he!  And why did the Magistrate hire her anyway?  If she hadn’t appeared, his plan to starve the young man out would’ve worked in time.  Oh how he wanted to make her pay.  But there were far too many reasons why attacking her wouldn’t be in his best interests.  His gaze fell on the Red Hood.  Perhaps he could still get something out of this mess.  After all, plenty have placed a bounty on the vigilante’s head.  The beast too, but it didn’t appear to be present and he highly doubted it existed to begin with.  He looked to the men with him and gave the order.  “Arrest the Red Hood.”

            Mel gave a startled step back at the unexpected turn of events.  “Wait. What?”  When the guardsmen made to move forward, someone gripped her arm and pulled her back before she could react.  Next thing she knew, she found herself staring at Fenris’s armored back, his sword drawn and his markings glowing.  The guardsmen all froze in place.

            Hawke smirked at the leader’s face.  It was the most perfect ‘oh shit I didn’t think this through’ face she had ever seen.  “You might want to rethink that,” she said, gesturing to not only the now pissed off elf but also the dwarf who had his crossbow at the ready.  Isabela still had her weapons drawn from earlier but she remained back, appearing relaxed although Hawke was sure she was just waiting for the action to start.  “You really don’t want to take on these guys.”

            “You cannot intervene in official -”

            “Official my ass!” shouted Mel as she tried to get pass Fenris so she could deal with the man herself.  The elf attempted to block her attempts with his body but when she almost slipped past him, he decided to try another method.  He stuck his sword in the ground and ripped Mel’s bow from her hands and threw it next to his blade.  Then he whirled her around and trapped her in his arms, her back to his chest, her arms crossed against her chest, and his hands gripping her wrists tightly.  She struggled in his grip but was unable to break free.  That didn’t stop her from continuing to yell at Urian.  “You’re just pissed that nothing went your way today!”  She followed that with a few elvhen curses that had Varric and Isabela snorting.

            “Do you have a death wish?” Fenris hissed in her ear.  Mel stopped struggling, but not because she realized he was much too strong for her but because of his voice.  That gravelly voice that sparked an unfamiliar heat within her and pushed forth a breath on her neck that chilled – what the Void was she thinking!  _Focus Mel!  And not on the attrac – asshole of an elf manhandling you.  You can deal with him later._   She glared at the guardsmen and spat another few curses their way, ignoring the stare of the unknown woman and her sly grin.

            Before the guardsman could respond, Hawke spoke, “Let me make this easy for you.  She’s with us.  You raise a sword against her, you do so against us.”  Mel stopped struggling again and stared at Hawke with surprise as she listened to the young woman’s bold words.

            A moment of tense silence passed as everyone waited to see what the guardsman would decide.  Urian let out a frustrated growl and ordered his men to stand down.  He shot Hawke and the Red Hood one last glare that held a promise before turning and marching back to Kirkwall.  Once they men were out of sight, Fenris released Mel.  It was so abrupt, she stumbled forward but tried to save it by making it appear as if she was merely attempted to snatch her bow from the ground.  When she turned however she caught Varric’s knowing grin and knew she hadn’t fooled anyone.  She tugged lightly on her hood to secure it on her head and attempted to speak, but was startled when a certain snarling elf invaded her space.

            “What were you thinking?” Fenris growled.  He couldn’t believe this woman, this girl!  Was she trying to get herself killed?

            Mel glared at him and took a step back.  “Why the Void are you pissed at me?”

            Fenris answered her retreat with an advance.  “You shouldn’t be here!”

            “I bloody live out here, remember!” she shouted.  “And I wasn’t going to stand by while they struck down that elf!”

            “Okay.”  Varric pushed his way between the two, a little concerned that there was still a good chance of more blood being spilt.  “Let’s just calm down.”

            “You were a fool to even attempt to take them on your own,” Fenris said.

            “Enough!” Varric shouted, his rarely serious tone causing the angry warrior and rogue to listen.

            “Aw, why’d you have to make them stop?” the other woman whined.

            “Isabela,” Hawke warned.

            Varric ignored the two.  “Mel, where is Fen?”  The concern in his eyes both surprised her and touched her.  “Is he okay?”

            “He’s fine.  He’s currently hunting on the other side of the mountains.  It’ll be another day or so before he returns.”  Every once in a while, the red lion had to hunt outside the area as the Free Marches weren’t used to accommodating such a predator along with the indigenous creatures.

            “You’re wandering the area without protection!” Fenris shouted.

            “I can take care of myself just fine!” Mel shouted right back.  Varric threw his hands up in the air.  Apparently it was pointless to prevent this fight.

            “I find that a little hard to believe based on what occurred here today,” Fenris said, his voice now deadly calm.

            “I had a plan,” Mel said through her teeth.

            “And what if there had been more than just those three?  What then?”  When Mel didn’t immediately respond, Fenris gave a sharp nod.  “Just as I thought.  You continue this charade under the false belief of being invincible and you _will_ end up dead.  This is not a game you are playing, girl.”

            Mel took a deep breath, reining in her anger and hurt at his words.  “I know that what I do isn’t a game, _elf_.”  She surged forward, surprising Fenris when _she_ invaded his space.  “You have no idea just how aware I am of my vulnerability.”  His brow furrowed at her words but before he could comment, she had whipped around and stormed off, quickly disappearing amongst the rocks and trees.  Fenris stared after her for a moment before shaking his head and taking off himself, cursing under his breath.

            Hawke, Varric and Isabela remained standing, thinking over what just occurred.

            Hawke turned to Varric.  “Did you catch -”

            “Oh yeah.  Couldn’t miss it.”

            Isabela laughed.  “Ten sovereigns that he snaps first.  An extra five if it’s up against a wall.”


	5. Sharing Stories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! School's ended for the summer, so I'm hoping to be updating more often. Any way, here's the next chapter in Mel's story and please feel free to leave comments at the end. They make me smile. :)

            Mel wasn’t sure why she was here, wasting her afternoon drinking when she could be on the Wounded Coast.  She had even said so to the damn dwarf who was partially responsible for dragging her here, but he had ignored her protests and attempts to pull her wrist free of his hand.  She should’ve remembered that dwarves were actually quite strong.

            Fen was still hunting out of area and Mel hadn’t seen her mage friend for a while so she had decided to visit Merrill that morning for a few hours to see how she was adjusting to life in the city and to provide fresh meat for the alienage market.  The visit had been pleasant to start but then they had argued about Merrill’s use of blood magic and Mel had gotten frustrated enough to the point of stomping off when Varric and Isabela had shown up.  Sensing the mood, dwarf and pirate had decided that they both needed some good fun and that’s how the four of them had ended up in the Hanged Man, drinking and sharing stories in Varric’s rooms.

            As hours passed, the tension Mel and Merrill’s argument had brought vanished and Mel began to enjoy herself, although she wouldn’t admit that to anyone.  She was still trying to figure out how she felt about the pirate.  Isabella had shared her story with them but Mel couldn’t shake the feeling she was holding something back, something very important.  She also couldn’t miss the flirtatious looks she shared with her friend and how Merrill would blush under the pirate’s gaze.  Mel narrowed her eyes at them, feeling protective of her friend.  For now she’ll leave them be as she can see that Merrill was happy.  But she would keep an eye out as well.

            When the four of them found their cups empty, Mel volunteered to retrieve another round.  “Four more,” she told the bartender.  She leaned against the bar counter as she waited and tapped her foot to the lively music.  She remembered dancing with her brother and the servants’ children many years ago and the happiness she had felt the past few hours dimmed slightly.

            “Hey there little lady.”  Mel glanced to her right at the slurred words and saw that it was a young, handsome man wearing fine clothing.  _A drunk noble.  Oh joy._   She turned back from him.  “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a dump like this?”

            _Damnit.  I’m not “little”!_   “Drinking with my friends.”  She shot the man a warning look when he drew closer, but he stupidly ignored it.

            “I could take you some where nice you know?”

            “I think I’ll just stay here.”  Suddenly, something landed on her ass and Mel froze.

            The man’s hot, smelly breath hit her next as he whispered in her ear, “My bed is much better than the cots here.”

            Mel kept her eyes forward and struggled not to cut the offending hand off right then and there.  “Get.  Your hand.  Off.  My ass.  Now.”

            “No need to act coy with me.  I’ll make sure you are well -”  Mel whipped around when the man’s body vanished and his words were cut off.  She stared in shock at the sight of the warrior elf that held the drunk by the throat and pushed him against a wooden post.

            “She said no,” Fenris growled, his lyrium brands beginning to glow.

            “Get your hands off of me!  How dare you -”  Fenris tightened his grip, silencing the man.  He leaned his face closer, glaring into the terrified man’s eyes.

            “Apologize.”

            Perhaps if the man was a little less drunk, he would’ve been more careful with his words.  “She never said no.”

            Mel snapped out of her frozen state at the warning glint in the elf’s eyes and quickly stepped forward.  Varric would kill them both if they bloodied his favorite tavern.  “How’s this?  No!”

            The noble man’s eyes filled with rage at the rejection.  “No one says no to me!  I am the son of -”

            This time Mel cut him off.  “If you were the Maker, I would still say no!”

            Fenris was losing what little patience he had left.  “Apologize,” he repeated, his voice making it clear that there would be no third request.  What liquid courage the man had quickly vanished and after he stuttered out an apology, Fenris released him and he ran out.  Mel prepared herself for a lecture when the elf turned to her, but was surprised to see concern in his eyes.  But just as she allowed herself to relax, that concern vanished.

            “You should be more careful.”  Mel glared at him and opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off.  “Your drinks are ready.”  He moved past her and ordered himself a drink while she took the tray her order was on.  He followed her back to Varric’s rooms and surprised her again when he moved ahead to open the door for her.  She glanced at him as she passed but his expression remained blank and her attention was soon claimed by Varric when he greeted Fenris and called for a game of Wicked Grace.  Mel gave Fenris another glance when he claimed the seat next to hers but when his face still revealed nothing, she turned her attention to the cards in her hand and split it with keeping a wary eye on the pirate as she explained the rules to Merrill.

            They weren’t far into their game when the door banged open and two women and a man entered.  Marian saw their cards and immediately damned a hand.  Anders moved to seat next to her and Mel noticed how tense Fenris was.  And the glare he was aiming at the mage.  Mel gave the man her own look of disapproval as he had brought his staff with him.  No one in Lowtown was fooled by Anders’s claim it was for his “limp” and she knew that it was only a matter of time before a Templar called him out during the day.  Thankfully, Varric had convinced Merrill to leave her staff at home.  Two people with staffs would’ve drawn too much unwanted attention.

            Mel looked up when she noticed the other woman hadn’t taken a seat and was instead staring at her.  She raised a brow at the Captain of the Guard.  “Yes?”

            Aveline narrowed her eyes at her.  “You’ve created quite the reputation for yourself.”

            Fenris moved his glare from Anders to the Captain and she widened her eyes in surprise at the action.  She had thought he felt the same of the vigilante as he did of Anders, but he looked ready to attack if she made a wrong move towards the young woman.

            “I’m not sure how.”  Mel glanced at Fenris, also surprised by his actions.  _What is with him tonight?_   “Selling meat and furs isn’t really worth much talk.”

            Aveline sighed and took a seat.  When Fenris saw she wasn’t there to make any accusations or arrests, he relaxed and turned back to his cards, as if nothing had occurred.  “Just try not to cause me too much trouble,” the Captain begged.

            Mel smirked.  “I would Captain, but trouble tends to find me.”  Fenris let out a snort, earning himself an elbow to the side.  Mel hissed, forgetting about that stupid armor he wore and shot Varric a look when he chuckled.

            Aveline glared in frustration at Marian, who tried to look innocent.  “You aren’t the first to say that.”

            With that, they returned to their game.  Mel soon learned that Aveline and Isabela didn’t get along at all as they spent much of the game trading insults until Marian told them both to just shut up.  Fenris and Anders also didn’t keep their distaste for each other secret, though their method was much quieter and only consisted of glares over the table.  Mel still tired of it quickly and nudged the elf next to her at one point, indicating for him to quit it.  She figured he would ignore her, but he surprised her yet again by keeping his attention only on the game.  Marian shared how she and her sister, along with Aveline and Anders, had snuck into their family’s old estate and retrieved her grandparents’ will, learning that everything was supposed to go to their mother, not their uncle.  That was why Bethany was not with them tonight as she had decided to stay home and help her mother with her plans to petition the Viscount to get the estate back.  _Amazing just how many secret nobles there are running around Thedas,_ Mel thought with a small smile to herself, thinking back to her days in Ferelden.

            Once Marian had finished her story and Fenris won the first hand, Varric turned to Mel.  “Why don’t you tell us a story, Kitty?”

            Mel paused in her deal of the new hand.  “What did you call me?”

            Varric shrugged.  “Just trying out an option.”

            Mel didn’t even look at him as she resumed dealing out the cards.  “Veto.”

            “How about Red?  Never really got an answer on that.”  This time Mel glared at him. “Take that as a no.”

            “Kitty, Blondie, Sunshine, Daisy… What am I?” Aveline asked.

            “Beg your pardon?”

            “You have a nickname for everyone but me.  Why?  Oh and Anders, you keeping trying to peek at my cards and I’ll find the nearest Templar.”

            Varric shook his head.  “That’s not true.  There’s Bianca.”

            “Hey, I don’t have one either!” a slightly drunk Marian shouted.  Anders slowly moved her drink far from her reach.

            Aveline rolled her eyes.  “Crossbows don’t count.”

            “Well, now you’ve hurt her feelings.”  When the Captain just looked at him he shrugged.  “Haven’t thought of a good one yet.  What do _you_ think of Red?”

            “You just tried that one on her!”

            “Well then, you think of one and let me know.”  Mel let out a laugh and the dwarf turned back to her.  “So about that story…”  Varric watched as she thoughtfully stared at her hand, curious to see if she would willingly share a bit more about herself.

            Mel wasn’t an idiot.  She knew the dwarf was trying to get her to open up about her past and she was just as aware of the fact that she was growing too close to a few in the room.  _Is that so bad though?  You miss having friends to talk to – of the two legged variety._   She got an idea of a story she felt comfortable sharing.  “I’m sure you’ve wondered how Fen and I met.”

            That got everyone’s attention.  Isabela leaned forward, making sure to keep her cards well hidden.  “Fen?”

            Merrill nodded.  “On’alamelan.  He is a red lion.”  She giggled, a little drunk herself.  “He’s a big softy.”  Mel used a hand to cover her smile.  Fen would be so annoyed by that description.

            “Ah yes.”  Isabela smiled at the mage before focusing back on Mel.  “I’ve heard about this legendary beast.”  She smiled what appeared to be a charming smile, but Mel thought there was also a sense of coldness about it.  “Interesting name,” the pirate continued, glancing at the white-haired elf sitting next to Mel.  “Is that not confusing?  Fen, Fenris…”

            Mel rolled her eyes and ignored her.  Instead, she shared with everyone her rescue of Fen when he was a cub from a bunch of smugglers and how he has been by her side ever since.  “I’ve read about red lions,” said Anders.  “And they don’t care for humans.  Except for maybe as food.  So how did you tam-”

            “I didn’t tame him,” Mel snapped.  She took a calming breath and gave the startled man an apologetic look.  “Fen is as wild and free as the rest of his kind.”  She smiled, “And Fen would rather eat boar over human.”

            “Then why does he remain with you then?”  Mel turned to Fenris whose eyes held another question she couldn’t read.

            “I don’t know,” she answered and truly she didn’t.  Fen was both an exceptional hunter and fighter, clearly able to take care of himself and yet he still remained with Mel.  He was fiercely protective of her, yes, but red lions were typically lone creatures and, as Anders had pointed out, would rather avoid humans.  But Mel had accepted long ago that the great cat was just as mysterious as he was fierce and she didn’t see the point in questioning the most loyal friend she has ever had.

            The focus returned to the game with light conversation for another hour or so.  Mel found herself answering more questions about Fen and she surprised Varric when she willingly talked about her time in Lothering with Marian.  The dwarf also kept an eye on the elf to her left and he was glad to for if he hadn’t he would’ve missed the multiple instances where Fenris would glance at Mel, almost too fast to be noticed by another.

            But the conversation wasn’t to remain light and friendly for long and soon the two mages were arguing about blood magic, much to the annoyance of the other players.

            “Why would you deal with a demon?” Anders demanded.  “How big of a fool are you?”

            Merrill shot him a glare, “I needed his help.  He was really very nice about it.”  Mel fought the urge to roll her eyes.  She already had this argument earlier today, she really didn’t want a repeat.

            Anders threw his hands in the air.  “Of course he was!  He’s using you to get a foothold in a mortal brain!”

            “He’s not wrong Kitten,” added Isabela, earning a surprised glance from Mel and Merrill.

            “He’s a spirit,” stated the stubborn mage.  “He offered me his aid.”

            “You’re hardly one to criticize,” said Fenris as he asked the dealer for another card.

            His comment redirected the human mage’s attention and anger.  “And what about you?  You ever going to stop harping on the mages here?”  Marian elbowed him and shook her head, but was ignored.

            Fenris glared at Anders and snapped out a response. “No.”  Mel frowned but kept her eyes on her cards.  She really didn’t want to get involved in this argument.  Especially when she was sitting next to the elf whose hatred of mages was well known and could magic his fists into people’s chests.

            “They aren’t what you saw in Tevinter!”

            “The moment they are free, mages will make themselves magisters.”  Only Varric and Isabela noticed how Mel’s hands slightly shook and anger flickered in her eyes.

            “They are slaves!  You should want to help them!”

            Fenris’s gaze warned of violence and Ander’s eyes appeared on the verge of glowing.  No one was bothering to look at their cards anymore.  Fenris laid his cards face down and leaned forward.  “I don’t” he spat, venomously.  Mel flinched at his absolution and earned herself the attention of all, including that of the battling mage and warrior.  _Ah shit_ , she thought, refusing to meet either of their gazes.

            “What about you?” asked the mage.  “Do you think mages should be locked up?”

            Mel kept her eyes on her cards a moment longer but eventually met his.  “No.”  She noticed Fenris lean away from her slightly at her answer.

            Apparently Anders had too and he decided to push this a little further.  He had also noticed how the elf was around the woman and he didn’t see the point in wasting an opportunity to get under the irritating elf’s skin.  _Just returning the favor_ , he thought bitterly.  “Care to clarify?” he asked.

            “Anders,” warned Marian but it was too late.  Mel knew she had to answer, because not to would raise too many more.  But she also knew that the same would happen when she did answer.

            She took a deep breath and said, “I believe that out of all that are born in this world, mages are handed the worst cards.  They are born with powers that are both a gift and a curse, but instead of being provided support and guidance, they are feared and persecuted.  Which in my opinion only makes things worse and has created this never ending cycle of hate.  Mages shouldn’t be locked up for something outside of their control.”

            Fenris abruptly stood up, jolting the table so badly it caused a few of the drinks to spill, and left, slamming the door behind him.  It was silent for a few minutes with half the room glaring at Anders and the other half looking toward Mel with concern.  Just when she was thinking about leaving as well, Varric ordered another round of drinks and cards and for another hour they were able to slip back into light conversation and the occasional insult.

            Eventually though, Mel called it a night.  Varric offered to walk her home which she laughed at and rejected, saying it was a little late for him to walk to and from the Wounded Coast.  She said goodbye to the others and gently patted Anders’s shoulder when he attempted to apologized, indicated there were no hard feelings and exited the dwarf’s rooms.

            Anders’s attempted apology, no doubt Marian’s idea, had Mel thinking about Fenris and his departure.  She was confused how she had felt by his exit.  It had hurt.  In the past when she encountered those who hated mages, she would feel anger and had no trouble arguing with them.  But with Fenris, while she had felt a bit of anger when he expressed his hatred of mages, she also felt the desire to keep her opinion to herself, to not argue with him and his reaction to what she said had _hurt_ her.  Normally she wouldn’t care if she pissed someone off enough that they left, actually if such an argument didn’t end in a fight she thought of it as a win, but with him her chest had hurt at the slamming of the door.  _What the Void is wrong with me?  He’s a complete ass!  His opinion shouldn’t cause me pain, I should be pissed off that he wants people like my brother to forever be locked up!_

            Mel exited the Hanged Man and abruptly stopped when she saw who was waiting just outside, barely visible in the street torches’ light.

            “I thought you went home,” she said, surprised to see the elf she had just been thinking about in front of her.  And not looking as enraged as he had been when he left.

            Fenris was leaning against the wall, his sword on his back and his arms crossed.  He stared at her a moment then shrugged.  “I knew you would refuse the dwarf’s offer to walk you home.”  He frowned.  “Which is foolish as Kirkwall is even more dangerous after dark.”

            Mel felt herself relax at the familiar topic and disapproving tone and rolled her eyes.  “I live out on the Coast, too far for Varric to follow me out and return before light.  Besides, I know he has some of his ‘associates’ keep an eye on me while I’m in the city.”

            Fenris decided he needed to talk to the dwarf later about that.  If she could spot them, then potential attackers could as well.

            Mel continued, smiling.  “Despite what you believe, Fenris, I am very capable of taking care of myself.”  With that, she turned sharply on her heel and made to walk away.  However, strong arms came around her but before they could trap her, she dropped to the ground, slipping out of them.  She then swept her leg out and behind her, knocking away those behind her.  She drew a hidden dagger from her boot and jumped onto the fallen body, straddling it and holding the blade to her assailant’s throat.  She smirked down at the elf.  “How uncomfortable is it, laying on your sword like that?”

            Fenris narrowed his eyes at her but she could see his approval in them.  “You’ve made your point.  Get off,” he grumbled.  Mel’s eyes widened and her face reddened when it dawned on her what their position was.  She hurried off the warrior, missing how he too was blushing.

            She sheathed her dagger back into her boot and pretending to brush dirt from her leathers.  Then she looked back at Fenris.  “So, convinced I can make it home just fine on my own?”

            “No.”

            Mel sighed in defeat and once again began walking, this time with Fenris walking beside her.  “You and Fen are too alike,” she muttered.  Fenris remained silent but she caught him smirking out of the corner of her eye.

            As they made their way through Kirkwall towards the city’s main gates, they kept silent but would glance at each other when they believed the other wasn’t looking.  Both were deep in thought.  A couple of times, Mel thought about giving him the slip, not just because she knew it would irritate him but because he made her nervous, being this close to her and them being alone for the first time.  It only made her more nervous trying to understand why he made her nervous.

            “I would like to apologize.”

            Mel looked at him in surprise.  She never thought he would apologize for… what was he apologizing for exactly?  “Why?  What for?”

            Fenris kept his gaze ahead and unreadable.  “For how I acted the other day.”

            Mel almost stopped moving at that, but instead just stumbled along.  “You’re apologizing for saying that I had no business stepping in between that elf and guardsman?”

            He shook his head.  “No.  I apologize for how I delivered the message, not the message itself.”

            She sighed.  Of course not.  “If you’re not sorry for the message, why be for the delivery?  At least it was honest.”

            “It wasn’t.”  Mel opened her mouth to ask what he meant but fell silent when they approached the city’s gates.  As they passed the guardsmen on duty, she kept her head down but mentally cringed when Fenris looked them in the eye.  _He’s just going to cause himself an unnecessary search when he enters the city again_.  Once they were outside the city, he continued talking.  “I wasn’t angry because I believe you don’t know what you are doing or how to protect yourself.”  Mel looked away from him but not fast enough that he didn’t see the hurt in her eyes at the reminder of his words.  He softened his voice.  “Those were words said in anger, ones that I myself do not believe.  I do however believe it was foolish to defend him alone.”

            “That was why you were angry?”

            Fenris paused before answering, “Not exactly.”

            “Then why?”

            “I don’t know.”  Mel glanced at him sharply, but couldn’t tell if he was lying or not.  “But I shouldn’t have allowed my anger to grow as strong as it had.  For that, I apologize.”

            Mel stared at him a moment.  “That was hard for you wasn’t it?”  He shot her a glare and she smiled.  “I accept your apology.”  He grunted in acknowledgement and they continued on in silence again.

            Fenris’s thoughts returned to what was said in the tavern and he felt himself become irritated and then angry thinking about mages and her opinion.  He attempted to keep these feelings to himself but he must’ve failed as Mel asked, “Now what?”

            He glanced at her before focusing ahead again.  “What?”

            “You’re angry again.  I’m almost certain that I haven’t done anything within the last few minutes, so what is it?”  When the elf warrior remained silent she continued.  “I’ll just keep bothering you and we still got quite the walk.  Unless _you_ want to go back?”

            Fenris almost smirked at her obvious hint.  Instead, he kept his expression serious and asked, “Why do you support mages?”

            Mel froze in her movements for a moment before continuing on.  “I believe I’ve answered that.”

            “No.”  Fenris grabbed her arm and brought them both to a stop.  He stared at her intently.  “You didn’t.”

            Feeling her own anger resurfacing, she ripped her arm out of his grasp.  “Why the Void do you care?”

            “You know the evils they do!” he shouted.  “Yet you support blood mages and abominations!”

            Mel invaded his personal space and poked his armored chest.  “First of all, I know the evils _some_ mages have done.  Secondly, I’ve _befriended_ mages who have made poor decisions and I’ve made my stance on those quite clear.  Merrill and Anders are good people and I won’t condemn them for actions that have harmed none but themselves.”

            “For now,” he growled.

            “And third!” she continued, talking over him.  “The worst evil I’ve experienced was at the hands of someone with no magic.  And the kindest of actions from a mage.”

            Fenris saw tears in her eyes and felt his anger begin to drain away.  He didn’t what to make her cry, he just wanted to understand.  Or make her understand.  “Who?” he asked softly.

            Mel’s eyes widened as she realized what she had almost revealed and stepped back.  She chose to remain quiet and began walking onward.  Fenris followed behind her, hating the sense of guilt he felt.  He ran an armored hand carefully through his hair as he realized he might’ve caused her to close herself off again.  _Venhedis!  I’m not like the damn dwarf.  I don’t know how to get information from a person without bringing pain._   He watched her for a moment and decided that perhaps in order to convince her to share why exactly she felt the way she did, he should share a little bit more on why he hated mages.

            “Danarius used to have me pour drinks for his guests.  Usually wine.”  He noticed her slightly turn her head in his direction and continued on.  “He liked how nervous I made them.  But one day, there was this one magister that wasn’t nervous about my presence.  He watched me like a cat watches a mouse, his eyes lingered on my markings.”  Said markings glowed faintly at the memory.  They had stopped walking and Mel was facing him.  “He and Danarius spoke of trivial things as they drank and his eyes never left me.  Eventually Danarius revealed the other magister’s purpose and mine in that moment.”  He clenched his fists.  “Using the lyrium within me, the man performed a blood magic ritual to summon a demon and bind it to him.”

            “Why did he need to use you if he used blood magic?” Mel asked softly.

            “This demon was very powerful and blood magic wasn’t enough.  He used blood to bring forth the demon and my markings to bind it.  They used the blood of a slave girl.  A maiden I believe.  No more than fourteen.  Slaughtered her as you would a pig.”  He looked away from Mel.  “I heard later that the demon proved too strong for the mage after all and possessed him.  He – it was killed but only after murdering a merchant and his family.”  He closed his eyes as his markings flared for a moment and he felt the stabbing pain it always brought.  They snapped open what he felt fingers touch a lyrium line and saw Mel gently tracing one.  He watched in fascination as her touch didn’t add to the pain and even seemed to sooth it.  She didn’t speak until he had calmed and the markings dimmed.

            She stepped back and dropped her hand, not understanding why she had done what she did.  “I can understand your hatred of Danarius.  I can understand your hatred of Magisters.  But I cannot understand your hatred of all mages.  The wrongs of the few shouldn’t condemn the many.  Not all should be distrusted.”

            “You show a level of distrust with many in Kirkwall,” he pointed out.

            “I prefer the term cautious.”  Her eyes seemed to cloud over and she stared blankly past him.  “And I have cause here.”

            “Unlike Ferelden,” he pried, thinking about what Hawke’s sister had shared with them.

            Mel waved her hands in a so-so manner.  “I was cautious there too.  Maybe not as much but still cautious.”

            “The Blight is over.  You could return.”

            She looked back toward Kirkwall and shook her head.  “No.  I can’t.”  Before Fenris could question her further, a low roar sounded.  While he tensed up and his hand moved to grip his sword, Mel smiled and turned to face the tree line.  “Fen’s returned.”

            Soon enough, the great beast stalked his way out of the brush and shadows, approaching them.  He gruffed in greeting and rubbed against Mel.  She ran a hand through his striped fur and asked, “Good hunt?”  The beast gave another gruff, earning a laugh from the rogue.

            “Translation?” asked the elf.

            “That was a yes,” she said.  Fenris wondered just how she was able to know that.  The red lion turned his gaze unto the warrior and he felt as if the animal was looking him over before giving him a nod of approval.

            Fenris looked at the trail ahead and back toward Kirkwall.  “It would appear I no longer need to escort you further.”  Fen tilted his head in questioning.  “She had a habit of getting into trouble.”  The red lion huffed as if laughing and Mel shot them both a glare, Fenris’s more of a warning.  He smirked at her before turning to walk back toward the city.

            “Fenris.”  He stopped and looked back.  Mel was resting a hand on Fen’s head and smiling gently at him.  “Thank you for walking with me and sharing part of your story.  I’ll return the favor one day.  I promise.”


	6. Brewing Trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Yay!

            A few weeks go by while Mel and Fen fall into a new routine that now included Marian Hawke and her many companions.  Mel and Fen would hunt and patrol the Wounded Coast most late afternoons and all nights and Mel would sell her goods in the city or trade with the Dalish by day.  For the most part, Mel kept out of Hawke’s mission to earn money to join Varric and his brother’s venture into the Deep Roads as her assistance wasn’t often required with the all the volunteers at her disposal, whom possessed a wide range of weapons and abilities.  But her lack of involvement in Marian’s personal mission didn’t stop Mel from running into the rogue or someone else in her “group” at some point every day.

            Every other day, when she would go into the city to visit market, Mel would stop by Merrill’s place and talk with her friend.  She wouldn’t stay long though and often left feeling frustrated as their conversations always eventually turned to one on the elf’s usage of blood magic.  In an attempt to gain understanding, Merrill had shown her the creepy mirror that she kept in a back room and called an Eluvian.  She claimed it was a piece to the Dalish’s missing history and was trying to “fix” it.  She couldn’t share much more and when Mel brought her questions to her former clan, the Keeper refused to provide answers and Mel quickly saw that just mentioning the mirror to the other elves caused them to become a little jumpy.  None of this gave Mel any understanding and only increased her desire to stop her friend from resulting to such dark magic.  But her friend was quite stubborn and talks on this topic usually ended in the slamming of doors.

            During many of these visits, Mel would also run into the rogue pirate, Isabela.  Actually the only time she saw the pirate was either with Merrill or when she happened to run into Marian while she’s doing a job and Isabela happened to join her on it.  And the occasional game night with Varric in the Hanged Man.  Mel’s opinion of the self-proclaimed pirate queen had changed very little during this time.  She still couldn’t bring herself to place any trust in her but she could see how she made Merrill happy and that the emotions she showed the elf mage were in fact genuine.  So she tolerated her.  Which was certainly better than Fen who would constantly growl at Isabella anytime they met.

            Varric she saw the most, almost every day as a matter of fact and she started to wonder if he purposely sought her out when he would show up on the Coast if he missed her at market.  He still appeared to be on a mission to get her to share more about herself with him and honestly, she was finding it more difficult to not just tell him everything.  At this point she was just being stubborn and knew that it was only a matter of days before she broke down and told him about Dayton.

            Mel had become good friends with Marian, running into her on the Coast from time to time and meeting with her in Lowtown for drinks and the occasional sparring match.  As good of friends as they had become, Mel had formed a closer friendship with Bethany, visiting her often at her home since it was too dangerous for her to go out during the day and she rarely desired to join her sister when she went out to deal with bandits and other Kirkwall thugs.  Bethany had introduced Mel to her mother and uncle, the former being warm and welcoming and the latter rude and a little crude.  Mel, Bethany and Leandra would share stories of their times in Ferelden and Mel quickly befriended their mabari, Lady.  Mel enjoyed these visits as they reminded her of her time in Ferelden, leading her to writing Rox and Leliana more often, but a couple of times she would catch Leandra studying her carefully and she would feel nervous at the searching look.

            During these passing weeks, Mel hadn’t grown much closer with Anders nor Aveline as well, despite them both coming from Ferelden before Kirkwall as well.  While she might agree with Anders’s opinion on the treatment of mages, she found him a bit too radical for her and she was still wary of the spirit of Justice that shared his body.  She had thought about writing Rox about him since both he and the spirit had made claims on knowing her, but Mel didn’t wish to cause the Queen worry and instead avoided speaking of mages and their lot in life when around him.  As for Aveline, the Captain of the Guard was clearly still not comfortable with her and what her chosen nightly activity was, so Mel made sure to not run into her too often so as to make things a little less uncomfortable for them both.

            Then there was Fenris.  Mel had tried to figure him out but every time she thought she finally had, he would do or say something that would confuse her all over again.  When they were near each other, he would either ignore her, criticize her, or be strangely polite.  Most of the time it would be the criticizing and this often led to them at each other’s throats.  Yet, despite all of this fighting, Mel found herself thinking about him often and looking forward to seeing him whenever she went into Kirkwall or saw Hawke.  She was often confused by her reactions to his actions, to his voice, his eyes…  And not helping her understand any of this was Fen, who seemed to enjoy her constant state of confusion and would tease her whenever Fenris was near with various huffs or by pushing her into the elf, forcing Fenris to catch her when she would stumble.  Mel was sure the warrior believed her clumsy and his opinion that she was a fool had not doubt increased during this time.

            She was currently puzzling over these new feelings while she hunted along the Wounded Coast, dressed as the Red Hood since she hunted with Fen.  They had already taken down a stag further inland and she figured after catching a few nugs they would have gotten enough meat and leathers that day.  She paused when Fen gave a warning growl before rushing ahead quietly, peeking around some rocks.  She sighed when she saw that it was just Marian with Varric, Fenris, Isabela, and Merrill and was going to question Fen as to why he indicated danger when she saw where they were heading.  _Shit.  That’s Tal-Vashoth territory.  Shit shit!_

            She and Fen ran stealthily to intercept the group, jumping in front of Marian, startling the leader into pulling her blades.

            “Maker damn Mel!” shouted Hawke as she sheathed her daggers.  “Don’t jump out like that!  I could’ve thrown a dagger or – something!”  When Mel started to smile, Marian angrily pointed at her.  “I’m not kidding, I could’ve killed you!”

            Merrill raised her hand a little.  “Um, you’re not supposed to say her real name…”  Mel waved a hand, indicating that the slip wasn’t what was important.  Fen gave a low growl at Isabela.

            “Just wanted to give you a warning.  Tal-Vashoth a head, a lot of them.”

            Marian smiled.  “We know.”  At Mel’s concerned expression, she explained about the dwarf they helped earlier with some giant spiders who had then offered them a deal.  They clean out this area of Tal-Vashoth for him, helping him with a deal he made with the Qunari in Kirkwall, and he would give her a good percentage of his profits.  “Something about an explosive powder I think.”

            “Foolish to get involved,” muttered Fenris.  Mel had glanced at him when he spoke then looked away quickly but not before Varric had noticed.  Fen had somehow noticed as well, making a huffing noise that indicated his amusement.  She struggled not to slap him.

            Instead, she looked over the group and arched a brow.  “So you only brought four other people with you?”

            Marian shrugged.  “Well, yeah.  This is how many I had when I encountered the dwarf and I didn’t see the point of returning to Kirkwall to grab anyone else.”

            “Besides,” spoke up Varric, “We knew we were bound to run into you and Fen out here.”

            Mel shot him a knowing look and said, “You did, huh?”

            “It seemed like the type of situation you couldn’t resist.”  Mel glared at Fenris while Fen huffed in amusement again.  Mel agreed to join them in ridding the area of the Tal-Vashoth, after all it would make the area safer for travelers as well as take out a large chunk of the Tal-Vashoth population on the Coast.

            As they drew closer to this particular group’s territory, Fen’s hackles rose and he began to let out a snarl.  They all drew their weapons and froze when a lone Tal-Vashoth appeared on the path ahead of them.

            He held up a hand and spoke to Marian, “No further human.  Tal-Vashoth control these passages.”  Mel was surprised by the warning, something she had never heard of these rogue Qunari doing.  She glanced around to see that she wasn’t the only one to appear surprised and that Isabela was giving the Tal-Vashoth an appreciative look.

            “I am more than capable of meeting any threat,” Marian replied, indicating herself and her friends with a wave of her daggers.

            The Tal-Vashoth looked them all over slowly, lingering on Fen before speaking again.  “So I see.  I had expected to warn a caravan, not well equipped trackers.”  He gestured to his right.  “The path ahead is littered with my kind.  If you are as skilled as you appear it would please me if you killed them.”

            Mel’s jaw went slack while Varric spoke in surprise, “Awful lot of people wanting the same thing for once.”

            Marian gazed at the Tal-Vashoth, skeptical of his actions.  “And I should trust you?”

            He gave no indication of being insulted by her suspicion.  “I have no history of betraying your people, only my own.  I did not like my role so I left the Qun.  I do not wish to be a murdering thief so I left these Tal-Vashoth to warn their victims.  You are no victim, so now I will leave.”

            “It’s good to know that leaving the Qun doesn’t automatically mean you’re evil,” muttered Mel.

            “It’s always a matter of perspective,” replied Fenris.  Mel wondered if he was aware of the irony of his words.  She turned back to pay attention as Marian attempted to encourage the Tal-Vashoth to help them in killing the others.

            “Do I really need you to do the right thing?”

            “I have already done more than was demanded of my own choice.”

            “He’s got a point,” Mel whispered to Marian.

            “You have my word of caution, human.  Heed it or not.”  With that, he vanished among the rocks and Mel wondered what he would do now.

            “The more they talk the less I understand.”  Varric shook his head and smiled at Marian.  “Only you Hawke would try to convince a Qunari to join our little group.”  They all ignored Fenris when he attempted to correct him.

            “She wouldn’t be the first person to do so,” said Mel, thinking about a Qunari warrior she knew long ago.  “I liked him.”

            “Me too,” Isabela purred, earning a confused look from Merrill.

            Mel rolled her eyes.  “Different reasons I’m sure.”

            The group continued forward, soon finding the Tal-Vashoth they were looking for.  The fight was fairly quick with Mel, Varric and Merrill providing cover while Fenris, Isabela, and Marian charged at their targets.  Fen stayed out of the main fight and instead took out any reinforcements that came from a cave further up the rocky hill.  Once they had dealt with the Tal-Vashoth, Isabela and Merrill went up to the cave to see if there was anything worth taking, Fen going with just in case there was any lingering danger.

            Varric looked around, Bianca still armed and ready in his arms.  “Killed the lot.  I bet that dwarf is waiting in the compound.”

            Mel looked over.  “Mind if I come with?”  She had seen the entrance to the Qunari compound by the docks and had wondered about it often, curious about the Qunari within.  Sten was the only Qunari she had met, not counting the Tal-Vashoth, and she was curious to see if they had a similar personality. 

            “No!”  Everyone turned and stared at Fenris in surprise.

            “What?  Why?” demanded Mel.

            He stared at her a moment before answering, “You will draw too much attention to yourself.”

            “I wasn’t planning on entering Kirkwall dressed as the Red Hood or with Fen.”

            Fenris looked away.  “The Arishok will know.”

            Mel opened her mouth to state that she could care less what the Arishok knew, but Marian cut her off.  “She can come if she wants,” she snapped, not in the mood for another argument between the two.  _Maker,_ she thought _, I wish they would just kiss and get it over with already._

***

            Mel watched as Isabela and Merrill walked away, finding the pirate’s sudden and not even remotely believable excuse strange.  It was almost like she had been uneasy with the idea of meeting the Qunari which didn’t make sense when compared with her reaction to the Tal-Vashoth that had given them the warning.  Shrugging it off for now, she turned to Fenris to focus on another mystery while Marian spoke with the Qunari on guard.

            “Okay, care to explain why my presence would draw more attention than say Marian?”

            Fenris appeared to be high alert as if he expected the Qunari to attack them.  He didn’t spare her a glance as he kept his eyes on the guard.  “The Qun does not care for anomalies.  Particularly dangerous ones that are not properly controlled.”

            Mel raised a brow.  “ _I’m_ a dangerous anomaly?”

            “Yes.”

            Mel looked down at herself, inspecting the civilian clothing she wore.  Other than the daggers hidden in her boots and sleeves, she was basically unarmed.  Certainly less than the Hawke and the others.  “How?  Marian is just as ‘dangerous’ as me and more of an anomaly.”

            “Hawke does not travel with a red lion.”  They all moved forward when the gates opened and Mel thought on his words.  She could see how she was an anomaly to the Qun as she was a woman that fought.  Sten had shared his confusion about the contradiction once before to her back in Ferelden.  But he had never indicated that he thought her dangerously so due to her association with Fen.  Or perhaps his seemingly emotionless stance kept any uneasiness he felt towards her hidden. 

She glanced around at all the Qunari within the compound that watched them in turn as they passed.  They appeared to be casually observing them but that didn’t fool Mel.  They were alert and battle ready should they make a wrong move.

They approached a large set of stairs that lead to a large strange bench that stood empty.  At the bottom of these stairs stood a dwarf who glanced at them as they approached before turning back to the Qunari standing before him.  “Ah, my right hand arrives.  Summon your Arishok.  The bargain is done.”  The Qunari stared down at him a moment, a look of mild disgust on his face, before walking up the stairs and taking a right, disappearing around the bend.

The heavily bearded dwarf turned to face Hawke fully and frowned at Mel.  “Who are you?”

Marian glared at his tone.  “A friend.”

He shook his head.  “You split what you get, don’t ask for more.”

“He’s friendly,” said Mel and Varric let out a snort when he attempted to hold back a laugh.

The other dwarf ignored her and kept talking to Marian.  “About time you showed.  I’ve been here for hours.”

“The Tal-Vashoth were feeling a bit chatty,” replied Varric.  Mel almost added her own smartass comment but stopped when Fenris moved closer to her and she saw how much more tense he appeared.  She followed his gaze and witnessed as another Qunari approached the strange bench.  She let out a heavy breath as she saw how large he was, much more so than the other Qunari there and Sten.  His horns were just as much longer as he was larger and she also noted that he wore more clothing, although what skin was revealed bore the red markings the others had.  The Arishok stared down at them all a moment, his eyes on each and every one of them.  Then he sat and glared down at them while remaining silent.  Mel startled when Fenris stepped forward as if she had been in a trance of some kind.

“Arichokost.  Maraas shokra.”  Fenris lifts a hand and makes a sweeping wave before dropping it again.  “Anaan esaam Qun.”  Everyone stared at him in surprise, none understanding what he had said.

But the Arishok did and appeared to be surprised as well, though the degree of it was difficult to determine as his expression barely changed.  “The Qun from an elf?  The madness of this… place.”

Marian looked at Fenris.  “Friend of yours?”

            “Friend of no one.”

            “How -”

            “Talk about it later,” the dwarf cut off Mel, who glared at him.  The dwarf looked up at the Arishok.  “I’m here to report that your hated Tal-Vashoth were felled one and all.  Right?”  Marian nodded.  “Yes, they were.”

            “Just about,” whispered Mel.  She almost jumped at the warning glare Fenris shot at her.

            “So, I’m ready to open negotiations for the explosive powder.  As we agreed,” said the dwarf.

            “What’s his name,” Mel asked Varric, ignoring Fenris’s glare.

            “Javaris,” he whispered back.

            The Arishok gazed down at them in silence for about a minute before speaking, “No.”

            Javaris’s eyes widened and a hint of panic was in them.  “He’s not getting it.”  He looked to Marian for help.  “Make your chatty elf say something.”  Fenris looked about ready to kill him.

            Mel glared at Javaris.  “Awful bossy as well,” she said, not bothering to keep her voice down and the dwarf glared at her.

            Marian sighed and asked Fenris, “Any insight that would help?”

            He looked up at the Arishok.  “Qunari do not abandon a debt.”  Louder to the Arishok.  “I humbly request clarification from the Arishok.”  Mel whipped her gaze to him, wondering where that polite speech had been all this time.

            The Arishok tilted his head.  “I have a growing lack of disgust for you.”

            “Wow,” spoke Mel.  “Qunari really are all alike in personality.”

            “I will gag you,” growled Fenris.

            “The dwarf imagined the deal for the gattlok.”  Javaris made a sputtering protest that was ignored.  “He invented a task to prove his worth when he has none.”

            Fenris bowed his head in a show of respect.  “Then we have wrongly inserted ourselves in your affairs.”  He looked back up and gestured to Javaris.  “Would you have us kill this dwarf?”

            Said dwarf took a step back.  “Wait.  What now?”

            Varric stared at Javaris.  “Bianca’s tempted.”

            Mel looked down at Javaris, tilting her head as if curious.  “Fen’s never tried dwarf before.”

            All joking forgotten, Varric shook his head.  “That we might want to hold off on.”

            The Arishok seemed to give Mel and Varric a slightly more irritated glance than the one he’s had the whole time, but it was difficult to tell for sure.  “If you faced the Tal-Vashoth, he is not worthy of dying to you.  As he was not worthy of dying to them.”  He turned his gaze to Hawke.  “But you… you keep good company.”  Nods toward Fenris.  “Let the dwarf live.  And leave.”

            Marian stepped forward boldly, taking advantage of that show of approval.  “He had big plans for your recipe.  I was promised a piece of that.”

            Mel warily looked up at the Arishok and whispered, “I know you need the money and normally I’d say fight for it, but this might not be a good time to.”

            The Arishok spoke to Javaris, anger in his voice though still absent from his face, “Dwarf.  Did your imaginary bargain make promises on _my_ behalf?”

            It seemed to dawn on Javaris that he had made more than one mistake that day, possibly a very large one.  “I… expected your wisdom to be more profitable.”

            The Arishok looked down in thought and in the silence all of the other Qunari in the compound moved into a more physically ready position.  Then the Arishok stood, his entire body now betraying his anger, and ordered, “Then _you_ will pay on my behalf.”

            Javaris threw his hands in the air.  “Sod it all!  Take your coin.  Take whatever!”  Marian caught the coin purse thrown at her and they watched as the muttering dwarf began to walk away.  “Horn head oxmen and mongrel dog lords.  Suck your own powder and blow your head off.  Sod it!”

            Mel looked at Marian confused.  “Mongrel dog _lord_?”

            Marian appeared insulted.  “If Fen wants to give dwarf a nibble, I don’t think anyone would miss that one.”

            “Hawke, Mel.  No,” snapped Varric.

            The Arishok looked down on them.  “You will leave as well.  There is no more coin for you here.”  He then sat dismissively.

            “Well now I feel cheap,” said Marian, but she pocketed the coin purse all the same.  They all turned to leave when…

            “Red Hood.”  Mel froze at the deep rumble and slowly turned to face the Arishok, whose gaze was solely on her.  When she met his gaze and refused to look away, he continued, “You command the red lion that prowls outside this wretched place.”

            Mel’s fingers itched for a dagger and she glared up at him.  “I command no one.”

            The Arishok narrowed his eyes in turn.  “You do not control the beast?”

            Mel opened her mouth to reply but found her arm in a tight grip and a voice hissing in her ear, “Do not give him a reason to see you or _Fen_ as threats to be dealt with.”  Fenris then spoke to the Arishok, “The beast listens to her.”

            The Arishok turned his gaze to the elf.  “And to whom does she _listen_ to?”

            Fenris gave Mel’s arm a warning squeeze to remain silent and stated, “Me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are like hugs to me. :D


	7. Trouble Brewing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in two days! What! Truthfully, this chapter and the last were meant to be one whole chapter but it got pretty long and so I split them. The titles were kept similar because the intended plot forming that took place in these two were along the same lines: setting up future conflict basically. So here you go! ENJOY!

            Late that very night, Mel and Fen were roaming around the Wounded Coast, not hunting or patrolling but just enjoying the cool night air.  Mel thought back on the events earlier in the compound and on Fenris’s explanation for the claim he gave the Arishok.  He had explained how the Qun demands control, even over chaos, and that all should stay within their intended role.  Because she claimed to be a woman but yet fought like a man, she was a sign of rebellion against the Qun.  And because Fen, a wild beast of great strength, fought _beside_ her, he was seen as a potential threat against the Qun as animals are thought to be ruled by their instincts yet he has gone against those in his accompany of her across Thedas.  So to the Qun, she was viewed as in possession of a chaotic power and without a handler.  By claiming that she followed his command, Fenris was claiming to be Mel’s, and through her Fen’s, handler.  Mel hadn’t like how any of that sounded and when he continued to explain how this was how the Qun dealt with their mages, she had felt sick and had abruptly left, running back to the Coast and the safety she felt whenever she was with Fen.

            Fen stopped moving and sniffed the air, letting out a low growl and informing Mel that there is something up ahead.  He led them along the cliff and when he stopped, they peered over and saw a group of Qunari gathering about a fire.  Mel the spotted what appeared to be the bodies of many slain Qunari, not Tal-Vashoth, and wondered what the Void had happened here.  And what were the survivors waiting for?

            The answer came to her when she then saw another group, this time of all too familiar figures plus one unfamiliar, exit a cave just uphill from the Qunari.  She watched as Hawke, Varric, Merrill and Anders appeared to escort a Qunari bound in chains and wore a heavy collar.  Remembering Fenris’s description of the Qun’s treatment of mages almost made Mel gag and she and Fen quickly made their way to Marian’s group as the waiting Qunari spotted them and all stood.

            Merrill smiled at Mel as she approached.  “Veni’vheraan!”

            “Merrill.  What are you doing out here again?  And with one of those?”  She indicated the bound Qunari, noticing his stitched lips and feeling sick again.  Fen rubbed against her side in comfort.

            Merrill looked at the Qunari, her eyes tearing up.  “Isn’t what’s been done to him horrible?  Just because he’s a mage!  We’re taking him to his freedom.”

            “What?  How…”

            “This Chantry lady asked Hawke to help with taking the guy outside the city and away from the Qun,” answered Varric.  “Anders thinks it’s a trap.  And it looks like he may be right.”

            Anders glanced at him as they all slowly made their way down the hill towards the waiting group.  “Don’t sound so surprised.”  Marian shushed them all as they drew nearer.  The Qunari all gather behind a particular one that wore a helm and held a strange rod.  All of the warriors were heavily armed.

            “You will hold, basra vashedan!” commanded the group’s leader.  “I am Arvaarad and I claim possession of Saarebas at your heel.”  Hawke looked to the bound Qunari who remained silent and Fen let out a soft growl.  “The members of his karataam were thought to be killed by Tal-Vashoth but their disposal leads only here, to Saarebas and you.”

            Mel wished Fenris was present to translate.

            Marian spoke cautiously, “I just got here, coming from the other way.  If there was a trail, we did not leave it.”

            “I saw them exit that cave just now,” added Mel, pointing back up the hill.  Fen sniffed the air and growled softly.  “And Fen doesn’t recognize the scent on your dead, so it wasn’t her nor was it likely Tal-Vashoth.”  To Marian.  “Who’d you piss off now?”

            Before Hawke could answer, Arvaarad continued, “Yet you are here with Saarebas.  The crime is his freedom, his leash held by unknowning basra.  We will not allow that danger to continue.”  Mel thought back to Fenris’s words and true understanding of her stand with the Qun and the danger there began to dawn.  “Let your own mages doom you – Saarebas will be properly confined.”

            Marian refused to stand down.  “And if he doesn’t want to go back?”

            Arvaarad breaks from the group abruptly and advances on chained Qunari, startling Mel and Marian into drawing their weapons.  Anders and Merrill gripped their staffs and Fen’s growl grew in volume.  But Arvaarad stopped in front of the Saarebas and commanded, “Saarebas!  Show that your will remains bound to the Qun!”  Immediately, the Qunari mage knelt, growling.  Fen answered with his own.  Arvaarad waved a hand at the kneeling Qunari.  “He has only followed you because he wants to be led.  He is allowed no other purpose.”

            Marian frowned at the sight of the kneeling Qunari and then she looked over the slain Qunari that hadn’t even been moved by their brethren.  “You don’t care that someone abused your dead to get you here?”

            Arvaarad didn’t even look behind him.  “No doubt they were cast from your shoulders as you or your partner thieves grew weak.”

            “You still think they were responsible for their deaths!” Mel said, outraged.  Fen began to snarl.

            “Tell your beast to heel!” the Qunari warrior demanded.

            Mel almost instinctively shouted back she didn’t command him but she remembered Fenris’s words and fearful for her partner, she placed a hand to his head and murmured, “Fen.”  The red lion immediately fell silent but remained on high alert.

            The Arvaarad turned back to Marian.  “It is a crime whose victims are beyond caring.  It will be dealt with but the greater threat is clear.  It is my role to secure Saarebas.  It is the role of another to purge the perversions of your kind.”

            “I’ve met with your leader.  The Arishok would not want a potential ally challenged in this way.”

            Varric leaned toward Marian.  “That may be a little presumptuous.”

            The Arvaarad didn’t appear impressed.  “Claiming to know the will of the Arishok with Saarebas in your care is maraas imekari, a child bleating without meaning.”

            “Apparently he thinks so too,” said Mel.

            “The Arishok knows what is to be done with Saarebas who lose their Arvaarad.  There is no greater threat to their control.”

            Marian shook her head and begged for an explanation.  “He is bound and abused and you want him caged?  Why?”

            The Arvaarad turned away and began to pace.  “The power that he had, that all Saarebas have, draws from chaos and demons.  They can never be in control.”

            Marian sighed in sorrow.  “So you fear them.”

            “Like so many others,” muttered Anders.

            Arvaarad turned and approached them again.  “We leash Saarebas because they are dangerous and contagious.  Not even your Templars fully grasp that threat.”

            Mel couldn’t hold back her anger any longer, the image of Dayton collared and chained with lips stitched shut too much for her to bear.  “Not all mages are dangerous!  My brother, he is a healer!  He’s given no reason to be feared!”  In her desperate attempt to defend her family, she missed the looks of surprise from the others aimed at her when she spoke of her brother.  It further surprised them when it was Anders that placed a comforting hand to her shoulder.

            “You waste your breath,” he gently spoke while glaring at the Qunari.  “He will never tolerate my kind.”

            “It is a shame,” added Merrill.  “We’re nice people.”

            Varric noticed how this startled the Qunari.  “Uh Daisy…”

            “You… are Saarebas?  Bas Saarebas?”  Mel wondered what he had thought the staffs were.  He turned back to the rest of his party.  “Vashedan!  Nehraa sataa karasaam!”  He turned back to Hawke and spat, “You spewed your words at me, like a demon trying to poison my control.  Like these mages, the Qun requires your death!”  He drew his weapons as did the others.

            Marian got into position but tried one last time to end this without a fight.  “Okay, first of all, I’m not a mage.  Secondly, they are no threat to you or anyone!”

            “Bas Saarebas!  They shall be no threat to anyone!”  He waves the strange rod in his hand and they are startled when Saarebas collapsed with a groan.  The Arvaarad gave the command to attack and the Qunari charged forward.  Mel quickly dived to the side and spent most of the fight throwing her daggers and retrieving them from their intended targets.  The fight soon ended mostly due to Merrill and Anders’s attacks as it was clear that their unleashed magic unnerved the Qunari.  Mel grew worried part way through the fight when she noticed Anders’s eyes glow a brilliant and unnatural blue but when the fighting stopped, they had returned to normal.  She snapped around when she heard running and saw a Qunari attempting to flee.  She knew if he made it back to the compound, the Arishok may demand their heads.  As if he knew what she thought, Fen surged forward and took down the fleeing warrior, cutting his cry short.

            Marian approached Saarebas.  “Can you stand?”  He grunted and indicated the rod now laying in the dirt.  Anders used his magic to destroy it and the Qunari stood.

            “I am… unbound,” he said, his voice sore from years of silence.  “Odd… wrong… but,” he faced Hawke, “you deserve honor.  You are now Basvaarad, worthy of following.  I thank your intent, even if it was… wrong.”  He began to walk toward the cliff’s edge that jutted out over the sea.  “I know the will of Arvaarad, I must return as demanded.  It is the wisdom… of the Qun.”

            Marian and Mel shared a disbelieving look and hurried after him.  “So after all of this, now you want to die?” Marian asked.

            “I do not want to die, I want to live by the Qun.”

            “Which means dying.”

            “It is not death if the spirit never lived,” muttered Mel.  Varric and Fen attempted to offer her some comfort, each standing by her side.

            “Yes,” Saarebas answered, stopping to face Hawke.  “Is that hard to grasp?”

            Marian attempted to persuade him to reconsider his actions, promising to help him find a new life or offering to allow him to join her group, but nothing could shake him of his faith and duty to the Qun.  “Patrice might take you back if death is the only other option,” she tried once more.

            “The sister was not honest.”

            Marian jolted in surprise.  “What do you mean?”

            “I cannot say what she wanted but it was certainly not of the Qun.  And her guard smelled of death.  The beast would recognize it I believe.”  He turned and walked once more.

            “I can’t let you do this,” Marian protested, but she didn’t move to follow, accepting there wasn’t anything she could do.

            “If you force choice, it is not choice.  Your doubt does not make me wrong.”

            “My head hurts.  And my heart,” sniffed Merrill.  Varric took her hand and squeezed it.

            The Saarebas faced Hawke one last time.  “Certainty is comfort.  That is the way of the Qunari.  The way of the Qun.”  He turned back to face the sea and set himself a blaze.  Everyone faced away, unable to watch as he silently burned to death.  Marian turned into Anders’s arms, Merrill collapsed into Varric’s and sobbed into his shoulder while Mel sought comfort in Fen’s fur.

            When the fire had died and only ash remained, Merrill spoke softly, “That was not right.  It wasn’t, was it?”  Varric shook his head as he patted her back.

            Marian stepped from Anders and glared in the direction of Kirkwall.  “She may not have known about this,” indicating the dead Saarebas, “but clearly Patrice set a trail right to us.”

            Anders gripped his staff tightly and his eyes flashed bright blue.  “If this was her doing, I have a few questions for her.”

            Mel stood up.  “Me too.”

***

            Mel followed the others into the abandon building where they said they had met the Chantry sister.  Mel had doubted whether she would still be there but then they heard voices upon entering.  As they passed through the front room towards the back, they witnessed the Chantry woman ordering about a Templar.  Mel felt Merrill tense and moved just in front of her.

            “Leave nothing,” commanded Sister Patrice.  “It must be clean with no ties.  It…”  She had turned and stumbled back when she saw the group waiting in the door way, surprised to see them.  “Hawke!”  Mel felt dark amusement at watching the woman attempt to recover from her shock.  “It was Hawke, right?  From the streets?”  Marian crossed her arms but remained silent, staring the woman down.  “You… took the Qunari from the city?  Without incident?”

            Merrill peeked over Mel’s shoulder.  “Don’t be like that.”  She hid again when the Templar looked her way.

            Varric leaned against a wall.  “I think the ‘incident’ was rather your idea.”

            The Templar snapped at Varric, “Mind your tongue dwarf.”

            Varric’s brow rose, not taking it personally, but Mel did.  “Mind yours!” she shouted.

            Patrice held up a hand, halting everyone’s movements.  She looked to Marian.  “Please.  Do speak your mind.”

            Marian glared at her.  “Don’t string me along.  You know that I know.”

            The Chantry sister shook her head in false regret.  “Whether you believe it or not, I wished you no harm.  That might have been useful for someone but still regrettable.  A massacre of citizens protecting a slave might have forced the Chantry to doubt appeasement, to see Qunari for the monsters they are.”

            Mel and Anders both start to move forward in anger, but are held back by Varric and Merrill.  Mel wasn’t a fan of the Qunari way herself but she could see similarities between how this Sister was attempting to portray the race and how the Chantry has portrayed mages for generations.  All while shedding innocent blood, disregarding all lives involved and saying it was the will of the Maker.  It was no wonder she no longer held any faith in the name.

            Patrice gazed at them with mocking understanding.  “Perhaps finding the mage was a rushed opportunity.  If such a plot existed, I see how it might be… disagreeable to you.”

            “’Disagreeable’… Your ‘Ketojan’ killed himself rather than be free.  Because of the position _you_ put him in!” argued Marian.

            The Sister spread out her hands.  “I assumed he wanted to escape just as I would.  My pity is genuine but they are not like us.”

            Marian shook her head.  “If?  Perhaps?  Why continue to dance around this lie?  I am standing right here!”

            Patrice smiled, as if in victory, “If a member of the Chantry admitted instigation, I have no doubt it would result in more appeasement.  But an accusation from a Lowtown thug… You are hardly that important.”  She looked to Hawke’s companions.  “And no one will listen to illegal mages nor a known vigilante.”  Back to Hawke.  “That is not an insult – it’s why I chose you.  Rest assured, excuses, real or imagined, are not for your benefit.”

            Marian’s glare filled with hate as she realized that she couldn’t win this one.  “I won’t forget this, Sister.”

            Patrice tossed a coin purse.  “Take your coin.  Disappear back into Lowtown.”

            Marian let the bag fall to her feet.  “I don’t want _your_ coin.”

            Surprise registered in her eyes before they turned cold again.  “Very well.  Rest assure, I will not make the mistake of looking for help outside the faithful again.  The stakes – eternity – are just too high.”  The Sister and Templar moved to leave but Mel stepped in front of the door, blocking their way.

            The Templar growled, “Move.”

            “No.”

            “The Red Hood,” Patrice said smoothly.  “Been to the Gallows lately?”

            Mel froze up and paled slightly.  “What?”

            The Chantry woman smiled.  “The Templar Order and thus the Chantry know of your comings and goings.  Just who are you visiting?  Friend?  Family?”  Mel moved to draw a dagger but her arm was caught in Marian’s grip.

            “Do not threaten her,” warned Marian.

            “Merely conversation Hawke.”  Marian dragged Mel from the door and allowed the two to leave.

            Varric looked to Mel in concern.  “I think you should stay the night, kid.  I don’t trust that woman not to try something if you attempted to leave the city tonight.”  Mel stared at the door and nodded.  It appeared she had made herself another powerful enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews keep my pen writing and fingers typing. :)


	8. Old and New

            Mel moved through the busy Lowtown market, expertly weaving her way between the crowd as people loudly bargained or argued over prices.  She took a deep breath in, enjoying the smell of freshly cooked stag and decided that if she had enough coin left over, she’d buy some strips for lunch.  Her coin purse was heavy with the coin she had just recently earned that morning after dealing with Lirene and selling what she had left in the market place and she was on her way to a merchant’s booth that sold finely crafted weapons.  She had spotted a bow there the other day and she now had enough coin to purchase it.

            “Enchantment!”  Mel stopped at hearing the familiar voice and turned, her eyes widening in surprise when she spotted the speaker.  Then she smiled, undeniably happy to be seeing an old friend.

            “Sandal!” she returned the greeting, making her way over to the dwarf and his adoptive father.  “Bodahn!”

            The older dwarf returned her smile, equaling as happy to be seeing her alive and well.  “Messere Mel!  Oh how wonderful to see you again miss!  I had wondered if we would see you here in Kirkwall.”

            “Oh?”  Mel wasn’t sure how to feel about that.  As happy as she was to be seeing them, she remembered that Bodahn was a talker and enjoyed bragging a bit now and then.  If he had been on the lookout for her, whom else had he told?

            Bodahn nodded sharply, his brown beard braids waving about with it.  “Yes, ma’am.  It’s just as I told Messere Roxana, I mean her Highness, when I left her employment that me and my boy sure hope to see Messere Mel when we travel north.  Right my boy?”

            Sandal’s smile was as large as always and he jumped a little with his excitement.  “Enchantment!”  He looked around before turning his hopeful gaze back to her.  “Kitty?”

            Mel shook her head.  “Fenthorn’s out on the coast.  Cities like this aren’t very welcoming to big boys like him.”  When Sandal’s expression fell, she added, “But maybe I can try sneaking him in some time.”  Not exactly a lie.  There was always the possibility that Fen might enter the city.  It just might not be under peaceful circumstances.

            Sandal jumped some more and clapped his hands.  “Enchantment!”

            Mel smiled and turned back to Bodahn.  “Why did you leave Ferelden?  Last I heard from Rox, you two were staying in the Circle there.”

            “For a while yes.  The Enchanter there had taken an interest in Sandal’s talents but,” he looked to his son, worry in his eyes, “my boy began to feel uncomfortable there.  To be honest, so was I.  King Alistair and Queen Roxana may have saved the tower and helped the Order and mages a great deal in cleaning things up, but… it didn’t feel safe.  Made my skin crawl.”

            Sandal frowned and said, “The whispers were scary.”

            Mel frowned as well, not liking the sound of that.  She wouldn’t be surprised if the Veil about the Circle was weakened after the events there and she hoped that either they found a way to strengthen it or perhaps a new location for the Ferelden Circle.  “So why come to Kirkwall?”

            “We heard that trade in the Free Marches had experienced an increase due to all the refugees in the region.  And when me and my boy arrived, we heard about an expedition to the Deep Roads.  It promises to pay well and we wouldn’t mind one last adventure, right my boy?”  Sandal nodded.

            “The Deep Roads expedition?”  _Seriously, how does everything and everyone end up connected to Hawke?  The world is not_ that _small!_   She remembered the stories Rox had written her about the Deep Roads and the horrors found there.  “You’re not worried about venturing down into darkspawn territory?”

            “Not with such fine protection!  Bartrand Tethras and his brother are leading the expedition and they’ve hired many men for the job.  I’ve also heard that there is a young lady interested in becoming a third partner and that she will be offering her own services to make sure everyone remains safe.”  He looks to his right and pointed.  “Matter of fact, here she comes now.”  Mel turned to look and wasn’t surprised to see Marian walking toward them, followed by Fenris and Aveline.  Mel ignored the feeling she got in her stomach at seeing the warrior elf and instead focused on the fact that all three of them were rather heavily armed.  “Hello again Serah Hawke!”  Mel resisted the urge to smirk, knowing that it was petty to feel smug about the difference in greetings.

            “Hello Bodahn,” said Marian.  She smiled at the younger dwarf.  “Sandal.”  Then, “Mel.”

            “You know each other?” asked Bodahn.

            Mel crossed her arms and smirked.  “Hawke has a habit of being everywhere and knowing everyone.”

            Marian smiled but Mel could see the curiosity in her eyes.  “How do you know these two?”

            Before Mel could answer, Bodahn took it upon himself to do so.  “Messere Mel traveled with us for a time in Ferelden.  She and her… friend, Fenthorn, helped us out of many problematic situations, yes they did.”  Mel felt someone’s intense gaze on her and turned to see it was Fenris.  The elf appeared to be studying her and when she raised a questioning brow, his eyes only narrowed further.

            Marian was intrigued by this information but decided to leave her questions for another time.  Instead she teased, “That seems to be their habit.  One I was hoping to take advantage of today.”

            Mel frowned, instantly suspicious.  “Oh?”

            “Well, we won’t take up any more of your time then,” said Bodahn.  “Sandal and I need to get back to the Hightown market.  Good to see you again ma’am.  Come visit me and my boy some time.”

            “Good to see you too,” she replied, not bothering to make any fake promises to visit.  She couldn’t bring herself to do that to them.  It wasn’t their fault they weren’t aware of why she didn’t like to risk stepping foot into Hightown.  Once the two dwarfs had left and the rest of them had found a narrow alleyway to talk in private, she asked, “So, what’s wrong?”

            “The Viscount’s son has gone missing,” Marian stated.

            Mel tilted her head.  “And you’ve volunteered to find him.”

            Marian nodded.  “Apparently he’s been associating with the Qunari and was last seen leaving for the Wounded Coast with one.”

            Mel crossed her arms.  “Is he actually missing or is this a case of a disapproving parent overreacting?”

            Hawke shrugged while Aveline seemed annoyed by Mel’s causal words.  “Could be either one but there’s a band of mercenaries already on their way that are only interested in getting paid and won’t hesitate to spill blood.”

            “You’re worried they may hurt him?”

            “The reward is for bringing him back alive.  Not unharmed.”

            Mel shook her head.  “Poor wording.  It can kill.”

            Fenris let out a groan.  “You’ve been around Varric too much.”  Mel smirked at him before speaking to Marian.

            “So you need the Red Hood and Fen to help you track him.”

            Marian nodded.  “And protect him if necessary.”

            “And what of the Qunari?  The last two run-ins with them that I’ve been there for couldn’t exactly be called successful.”

            Fenris spoke up.  “The boy seems to have formed a bond with the Qunari.  He may even be giving thought to joining the Qun.”  Mel frowned.  These last two run-ins hadn’t given her a positive view of the Qunari and the Qun.  Parts of it she could understand, such as the search for order and sense of duty, but the strangling need for control, the lack of choice, and the abuse of their mages… she couldn’t look past those.  “They may not be allies in this but they wouldn’t be enemies.”

            Mel huffed in amusement and smiled at him.  “You always know just what to say to make me feel reassured.”  Fenris glared at her.  “I’ll help, no problem.  I will need to… change.”  She only ever brought her Red Hood armor into the city when she was visiting Dayton.

            Marian shook her head.  “There isn’t enough time.  We need to reach Saemus before the mercenaries.”

            Mel kept her calm appearance but her pulse had picked up speed.  “I can’t be seen with Fen as,” she held out her arms indicating herself, “this.”  She wasn’t worried about the Qunari as they already know and the mercenaries probably won’t live to see the sun set but the Viscount’s son?  Revealing who she was to a nobleman and one as high up as this Saemus… that was the worst risk she could take.  Nobelmen talk… a lot.

            “Here.”  She startled out of her thoughts when a low voice spoke near her and turned to see Fenris holding out a large strip of red cloth.  She took it and found that there were two holes cut into it, creating a mask.  She rubbed her fingers over the material and wondered why her chest was filling with warmth.

            “Thank you,” she spoke softly.  Fenris seemed surprised by her tone and hesitated before nodding and stepping back.

            Marian watched the exchanged with interest.  “I’m sure you’re armed but you’ll need more than a couple of daggers.”

            Mel smiled and ran her fingers over her coin purse.  “Don’t worry.  I got that covered.”

***

            Once they had reached the edge of the coast, Mel had tied the mask about her head and gave a high pitched whistle which was answered by a mighty roar.  Soon after, Fen had appeared and after producing a shirt of the missing nobleman for him to sniff, began leading them through the rocky coast.  Mel had questioned why they needed Fen to track when they had Lady and Marian had mumbled something about not leaving her family defenseless in Lowtown.  After that they had remained mostly quiet with some small talk.

            “You traveled with Roxana Cousland, now Theirin,” stated Aveline.

             “For a time,” Mel replied, keeping her eyes forward.

            “You never said anything.”

            Mel shrugged.  “Didn’t seem worth the mention.”

            Aveline looked at her sharply, disbelief on her face.  “You didn’t think that you traveling beside the Hero of Ferelden during the Blight was worth mentioning?”

            Mel rolled her eyes.  “When exactly would I have mentioned that I am friends with the Grey Wardens, Rox and Alistair?”

            Aveline looked to Marian for aid, but when all the rogue did was smile and shake her head, the warrior turned back to Mel with a suspicious glare.  “Friends with the Queen _and_ King of Ferelden.  What else are you hiding?”  Mel returned the glare and Fen began to give a warning growl, though he maintained his progress.

            “I understand you’re named after a famous knight?”  Both women looked to the elf, who was staring expectantly at Aveline.

            “Excuse me?” she asked.  Mel realized what Fenris had done and hoped he noticed her look of gratitude before she moved closer to Fen.  She continued to listen to the conversation though and shot Fenris another look, this time one of sympathy, when he shared how he didn’t remember his birth name, that his current one is was what Danarius had given him and that it meant “little wolf”.  Eventually though, Fen stopped moving and began growling again and Marian gave the order for quiet.

            They slowly moved forward and Fen’s growls grew more aggressive.  “He smells blood,” Mel whispered and they all drew their weapons.  They made their way around the rocks and found themselves at a small beach.  Scattered about were multiple mercenaries and standing over a large bleeding but still form was a lone woman.  The slain body belonged to a Qunari and kneeling beside him was a young man that Mel assumed was Saemus.

            The woman’s smug voice spoke loudly.  “And the world’s rid of one more Qunari.  Easier than I expected.”  She ordered her men.  “Call the men back.  We’ve got an appointment with the Viscount.”  She sneered down at the young man.  “Isn’t that right, Saemus?”

            Saemus’s broken voice had Mel’s fingers twitching.  “Ashaad… you killed him.”  He stood up quickly as shock left his face and anger replaced it.  “You… you vashedan bitch!”

            The mercenary leader laughed and Mel gritted her teeth at the condescending tone she spoke with next.  “That one of their words?  See, that’s why you need to be dragged home.  You’re playing too nice with those things.  I’ll wager you’ve gone even further than that.  Haven’t you, _brat_?”

            With that, Marian led them all to the mercenary and Saemus, drawing everyone’s attention.  The mercenaries all drew their weapons but hung back, wary of the red lion stalking beside Mel.  Marian spoke as they drew nearer, “Sounds like he doesn’t want to go with you.”

            The leader scoffed and pretended not to be intimidated by the big cat.  “Competition?  Well, you’re too late.  The Winters… _I_ have already claimed him.”  Mel glanced around at the other mercenaries – the _Winters_ – and noticed a few glaring at their leader.

            “Serah.”  Her attention was drawn back to the young man as he spoke to Marian.  He appeared resigned.  “If I must go back, so be it, but I will not see these… murders rewarded!”  He glared at the leader whose face became twisted with rage.

            “Spoiled shit!”  Saemus stepped back from the raging woman, clearly frightened by the anger erupting from her.  She drew both her short swords and spat, “I will cut out your tongue and charge extra for bringing you back quiet!”  Fen let out a snarl, bringing her attention back to their little group.  “And as for you… I could do with some entertainment while we wait for the oth-”

            Mel sank an arrow between her eyes and the leader of the Winters dropped dead.  Everyone gave her a look and she rolled her eyes.  “Please you all knew that was going to happen.”  The fight that followed was a short one, with Fen and Fenris taking out the most.  Saemus wisely kept out of the way, though he remained near the corpse of his Qunari friend.  When the fighting was done, he stood up and glared at the dead.

            “Dead and good riddance.  But… she said she was waiting for more.  A lot more!”  He looked at Marian, worried.

            Aveline allowed the ocean water to wash away the blood on her sword.  “Then we ready ourselves.”

            “Fen,” Mel ordered.  “Go.”  The great beast took off without a sound, disappearing quickly amongst the rocks.  Not too long after, screams and shouts of surprise could be heard followed by a roar.  Mel looked at Marian.  “They’re on their way.”  She smiled.  “Though perhaps not as many as that bitch thought.”

            Marian returned the smile.  “Then let’s ready a fitting welcome.”

***

            After the final fight and the last mercenary was dead, Saemus ordered to take him back to his father all while mumbling about attempting once more to make him see that the Qunari weren’t as bad as the Viscount feared.  When Marian had offered to burn the Qunari as was tradition, the young man had said that it was not the Qunari way and to leave him.   For a while, they walked in silence with the nobleman glaring at the ground.

            “The Viscount is clearly concerned about your safety,” spoke Aveline.  Mel shook her head, knowing this wasn’t the smart thing to say.

            Sure enough, Saemus turned his glare on the Ferelden warrior, his eyes a mix of anger and grief.  “The ‘Viscount’ sends thugs to do a father’s job.  I was in no danger until his ‘help’ arrived.”

            “You could have told him this was your wish,” Marian added.

            Saemus rounded on her.  “Keep your assumptions!”  He started to advance on her.  “You don’t understand anything!”

            Mel threw herself between the two, placing an open hand to the young man’s chest.  “Stop!”  She waved at Marian to back up and the rogue did so.  Mel turned back to Saemus, sympathizing with his grief and anger.  “You’re right,” she said.  “We don’t.”  Though she probably did, much more so than any present.  “But we’re not the bad guys here.  You can trust us to listen if that is what you need right now.”

            “Trust?” he scoffed.  “You?  A girl in a mask?”  Mel stared at him a moment, struggling with a decision.  She sighed and untied the cloth, removing it from her face.  Everyone stared at her in surprise at the action, though Fenris almost seemed angered by her action, his fists tightly clenched at his sides.

            Mel carefully folded the cloth and tucked it in her belt.  “Better?” she asked.

            Saemus searched her face and blushed, as if embarrassed by his outburst.  “I -”  He sighed and bowed his head.  “I cannot talk to him.  He doesn’t hear me.  He is as tired of being disappointed as I am of bearing it.”  He closed his eyes.  “And now Ashaad is dead.  It is not right.”

            “No,” agreed Mel.  No matter what she thought of the Qunari, what had happened to the one on the beach wasn’t right.  “But the ones responsible are dead.”

            Saemus glared at her.  “He sent them.”

            “And us,” spoke up Marian.  Mel waved a hand at her to shut up.

            “Your father is a man with a great deal of power and high expectations for his child.  He attempts to control your life and expresses fear when there is a slight deviation that he cannot understand.  It can be difficult to live up to those expectation and even more so to live with the man.”

            Saemus stared at Mel for a moment.  “You speak as if you’ve lived through this.”

            Mel gave a small smile.  “I have.”

            “Then you _do_ understand.”

            “I understand how you are feeling.  But to be honest, I feel a little envious.”

            “What?”

            Mel kept her eyes on his, refusing to glance at those listening.  “The man who called himself my father may appear similar to yours but for one great difference.  Yours tries to be what a father is expected to be.  He does everything out of a need to do right by _you._  He sent those people because he was worried for you.  Mine never even tried to be a father.  He was only focused on what he wanted, not on the wellbeing of his children.  If it had been him who sent those people, he would’ve had them rough you up before bringing you back where he would’ve beat you some more.”  She clenched her fists and Fen came over to offer his comfort.  “Your father isn’t perfect, there probably is no such thing.  But he is trying.  And you need to keep trying to.  If you both stop, things can only get worse.”

            He sighed and appeared humbled.  “I will keep trying to talk to – _with_ – him.  Starting with when I return.”

            Mel’s smile this time was large and full of joy.  “Excellent.”

            He gave her a pleading look.  “Can you be there?”

            Mel’s eyes widened.  “What?”

            “Not for the conversation,” he hurriedly explained.  “But would you wait around?  I suspect tonight won’t go well and it would be a comfort to have a friend there to talk to.  I don’t have many – well any really,” he added softly.

            Mel internally groaned, hardly believing she was doing this.  Not only was she going to enter Hightown but she was going into the heart of it.  But she felt a need to heal the rift between this son and his father and couldn’t say no.  “Very well.”  _Hopefully I’ve met my quota of trouble for the day._

            They continued on and as they walked, Mel missed the look Fenris gave her though if she hadn’t, she probably wouldn’t have recognized it.  The elf didn’t even know what he was feeling, only that he wasn’t happy with this turn of events.  But Aveline saw the look and recognized the emotion behind it.  It was one she had seen many times on her late husband, Wesley, early on in their relationship any time another man got too friendly with her.  It was the look of jealousy.


End file.
